Chemical Attractions
by FTAaee
Summary: Every moment in life is fleeting - every second is either wasted or productive; and as he caught the gaze of a female tribute, his life hit an excruxiating pause. Cato/Katniss
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: Nothing of Hunger Games is mine, but I do own a lovely Cato poster now. **

**Author's Note: Simply inspired through a conversation between me and a friend of mine. Any mistake you see is purely because of me, my Beta partner is currently in Spring Break mode...so...you get what I mean here. As for those who have suscribed to me as an author...Do not kill me because this is not a Halo fic. If you do, I'm sending the next best thing out there to get you, (No, not Fred..) - yeah, you got it; the Nyan cat.**

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><p><em>Like a storm, like an army...<em>

_As if something threatening, something frightening..._

_Cato charged through the grassy fields in a blind rage. Whatever control he held dispersed in that moment of weakness. A side of him shone brighter than he desired at the cost of losing someone dear to him; a friend. _

_Gripping the weapon in his hands tighter and tighter, his knuckles burned white as he sought out his victim; he could already see the blood – smell the death. He would avenge Clove and then go after the remaining tributes. _

_Nothing could control the beast now._

…

Nothing mattered in that moment anymore.

With squared shoulders and a chiseled chin raised high, Cato rose to the challenge as the last letters of his name slipped off the woman's tongue.

The boy did not look back at the others as his towering figure fluidly graced through the crowd. They parted for him; maybe in consent, maybe in fear...Cato hoped it was the last one.

As he stared at the audience scrutinizing him, his eyes flickered over to the female tribute. Her name was Clove Syazel.

And through that hardened exterior, he saw the resignation in her eyes. Inconspicuously, Cato nodded and the treaty between them was made.

One could hope that it would only remain that simple.


	2. We Are Young

**Disclaimer: yatta, yatta, yatta...you guys know the deal.**

**Author's Note: Relatively short, but this _is _just the start. Anyway, I'm pretty happy with the response from you guys. *smiles* Now if only I can get one from Mr. Ludwig...**

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><p><em>Being brought up in one of the better districts, his family did not have to worry about finding food to eat each starving night and a place to keep their sick in. District Two, Cato's district, was well off; healthy, strong, and most of all – proud.<em>

_Each year and day that passed by, adults kept the place running, served the Capitol with gusto whilst the children trained for the honor that they might one day be bestowed with. That was the reason why today, Cato was especially stepping up his game. _

_Being charged as the youngest of three sons, he had to outshine his older brothers. He had to prove his worth and become better than all of them. Because in the end, that was all that mattered; winning._

_Thundering past the training course, Cato set his mind on finishing first as he dropped to his knees and crawled under the barbed wire. Beneath him was mud that splashed up every so often, meddling with his vision. A glance to his side told him that someone was catching up, and so Cato forced himself to crawl faster. He did._

_Pushing himself off the ground, Cato dove for the rock climbing wall where no harness was stapled to secure any trainee safety. Cato's firm hands grasped for security on the rocks as he began to pull himself up. Countless of times, his knees scrubbed against a sharp crevice, yet he kept moving on; once, he even lost his grip, but Cato refused to fall and clawed his fingers into the rock. He bled, but the pain was dismissed; and after three minutes of struggle, Cato finally stood atop the rocky platform. _

_The blond boy gazed around, catching a few eyes here and there. This is what his district aimed to do. This was where they made tough people like him. Far off were the girls' training facility. All were glowing with the same determination he held, but one stood out the most. That girl gave him a brief salute before sliding down the bulky terrain._

_A spear almost decapitated Cato._

"_What do you think you're doing there, maggot? Get down here and give me fifty!" one of the instructors shouted. Cato almost instantaneously slid down in obedience. Two more years and he would be out of this facility and onto the weapons one. _

And then, I'll be of age,_ he thought as he dropped to his hands and began his push-ups. The adult above him kept yapping out orders and insults to him and the other kids around him. Most kids around his age would either be crying or seething hatred because of this. But not him – not the District Two children._

_Because like most, they wanted that very same honor that came with being chosen for the yearly games. And honestly, punishment like this never bothered him; it strengthened him._

…

"Mom, why are you crying?" Cato asked, slowly encasing his arms around his sobbing mother. Above all people he thought that she would be the one to handle this the best. He expected her to be overfilled with joy – not the opposite emotion of it. Glancing at his brothers, they merely bore the same apathetic expression of their father.

The bronze beauty choked on her words as she tried to pull her composure. In the end, she failed to do so and ran out of the room, leaving her four boys alone. Cato stared at the door his mother, his _tall, strong mother_ left through.

"You going to get yourself killed, little brother?" one of his siblings finally spoke up. The tension in the air could be literally sliced with a sword. Given the right precision, it might have cut something more valuable than it with the mutual feelings swarming in the room.

Cato's eyes sharpened as he stared at his cocky older brother. They say, at times like this, daggers would shoot out from the person's eyes, but not in Cato's case. Rather, he pictured twisted looking sickles– for they brought a more painful death than the ones daggers could ever hope to bring.

"You would wish." Cato finally murmured, crossing his arms. His said brother snickered and left the room without so much of a wave of farewell; their father rocked from his shadowy corner. The silence was back, but it had a generally lighter air in it compared to before.

"We'll be watching you." the oldest of the trio spoke quietly. Among the siblings, the eldest of them resembled their quiescent father the most. "Make us proud, little brother." he ruffled Cato's trimmed hair before departing as well.

_And then there were two,_ the hardened tribute thought, watching his father eerily lift himself out of the chair with lethal grace. Those dark, unperturbed eyes stared at his son with a cynical look. There was some darkness flitting behind those translucent orbs of his, but the father did not relinquish any of his thoughts to him. Not unusual in Cato's opinion.

"Remember." he finally spoke, shocking Cato into apt attention. But the next words his father was about to say were silenced with the flood of Peacemakers. One of them put a thick hand on his father's shoulder and roughly led him out the room. In that one moment, a hidden respect flickered in Cato's body.

His father was stronger than he commonly let on, so why did he let himself be taken away so easily? Cato wanted to hear what his father was about to say, but he let himself resign to accepting that one word. It was the first one his father had ever said directly to him in a long time, and so he would be content with it as much as he could.

Letting his hands drop to his sides, Cato watched the fire in the room be blown out by an unknown entity. In that small family reunion, his relatives had spoken volumes through the silence and tears. They all thought he wouldn't make it, and Cato had to scoff at the idea. Obviously their expectations for him were a little bit under novice, but he could deal with it. He would show them all that there was nothing to doubt; that _he, _among all people, wasn't to be put down.

Cato didn't notice the message hidden behind their words.


	3. Reverse That

**Disclaimer: *hint: Cato would still be alive in the series if I was the author***

**Author's Note: I don't know what to say except sorry? Yeah, sorry. I've been absent for a while, and I completely have no reason as to why. Now, I tried my best on this one - but it's been a while, and I probably need to get my writing mojo flowing again. Still, I hope it's satisfactory.**

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><p>The procession couldn't have been long, but the whole population of Panem still seemed to want to gather at their feet, watching them with amazed eyes. In this very moment, they would be ruling out the best and the worst. For survival's sake, the tributes' could only hope that they were part of the first group. Many had this though cracking at their heads whilst the best remained relaxed and poised in their grand chariots.<p>

Eyes discreetly dancing to the sides, Cato was among these lax tributes as he picked up his mentor's face and read her perfectly manicured lips consummately. Mouthing words at him, and only him, Cato did as instructed and drew a smirk on his mouth. At this revelation, the people began to scream his name even more, but unfortunately, the limelight lasted for only a short blissful moment.

The chants grew furious and hammered his ears, imprinting a name into his mind that he swore he would never forget. Scrunching his eyebrows together, he glanced over at his Clove to see that she too was frowning at this change in favorites. _Cat – what? _He wondered, looking above him.

The screens weren't lying. They weren't the center of all of the attention anymore. But indeed, there was a well plausible reason why the favors had transferred over to the District Twelve tributes; they were on fire. In literal,_ freaking_ flames.

Cato scowled as the two tributes remained firm under all the praise, tightly holding hands, (which was an idea he thought to be very ridiculous). Because it was simple, really; why would one ever dare to hold the hand of the dead?

"_I can't believe them," _Clove seethed, hopping out of the chariot. Their quick round over the crowd was finished and soon, they'd be heading to their new temporary rooms for the next following days. While bitter excitement had filled her for the most part of the train ride, Clove had finally begun to mold herself into a wary character with guarded eyes. Least to say, when she caught wind of the female District Twelve's face, those guarded eyes were now fiery with envy. And being the least "emotional" of them, Cato had left her to her mulling thoughts and followed in suit to join her and the District One tributes at the back. Watching them with cautious eyes, he saw that Glimmer, a beautiful blond goddess, mirrored his scowl as she glared at the chariot entrance; her sharp eyes waiting for the proper target. "Fire? Really?" Clove continued to glower, crossing her arms.

Marvel, a tall boy with a misleading figure, kept a poker face as he watched the rest of the Districts come back in. Among everyone, he was the quietest, but they knew not to doubt him; if silence could kill, he could kill too.

"It's all just an act," Glimmer finally spoke up, looking at each of them in the eye. Her face shape was highly defined through the make-up, thus added a sharp, lethal edge to the beauty it ornamented. "They won't last two days in the arena." she said haughtily.

Clove seemed to buy into her words and nodded condescendingly. "What do you think, Cato?" she asked; the boy had become a copy of Marvel since they had returned from their parade. Usually, she wouldn't have minded, but with a twist of things – she grew curious about him.

Snapping back to the conversation, Cato shook his head as he finally spotted the highly worshiped District Twelve tributes; the fire was gone, but unlike Glimmer's words, it still burned softly in one of them. "Cato?" Clove called out again, having received no verbal reply.

Cato merely grumbled in his head as he gave the back of District Twelve's female tribute's head a long, hard glare. _Her, _he concluded, watching as the girl shifted in her stance. She scratched her arm and looked tense, as if ready to pivot and face the person targeting her from the back, but remained talking to her team. He wondered how he would be able to get her to turn around, because against to Glimmer's arrogant statement, _she had it. _She still had the fire.

"Cato!" awaking from his scheming thoughts, Cato finally responded to the nudge from Marvel. Shifty eyes met his gaze as they beckoned over to an impatient Clove.

"Yeah?" he responded, watching her tap her foot. The girl sighed and drew the gold headdress from her head. Pulling the pin that held her hair up, she let her dark locks cascade to her shoulders as she gave Cato a meaningful look.

"What were you looking at?" she asked, capturing Glimmer's interest as well. On the other hand, Marvel threw him an inauspicious look, as if already informed on his latest discovery – Cato hoped for this to be false.

Shrugging his broad shoulders, he earned himself a glare from Clove. Her lips pressed into a thin line as she swallowed her plans of interrogation in and presumed her chat with Glimmer. In the midst of her conversation with her, she threw suspicious looks at him, as if questioning his true intentions. And like so, Cato did not miss these strange glances yet ignored them all the same.

Turning around, he caught the female District Twelve tribute's gaze one last time and found those stormy gray eyes queerly wild and alluring. She had been aware of him; she was wary now, and Cato smirked at that. That was exactly what he wanted. After all, what better way to mark the start of the games by picking out your first prey?

"Genevieve says we'll be watching everyone's reaping tonight. Will you be with us?" asked Clove. The two confident-driven teenagers finally stepped out of that lank room and quietly into the elevator. In the background, a distant tune rumbled to life.

"I'll see." Cato murmured, grabbing a corner for himself in the small space. He didn't quite want to pursue a topic with Clove; he had enough on his mind to bother him at present. But as it seemed, his partner did not observe this as she continued on their conversation.

The said girl smirked as she faced him; "It's a yes or no, Cato. Are you coming or not?" she pestered.

"Will I have a choice in the end?" he retorted, crossing his arms. He awaited for another snark remark from Clove, but it never came. Lifting his gaze, he could see why but that appalled expression written evidently on her face quickly disappeared from his. Wiping it off was easy, and soon, he had the two tributes in a disquieting mood.

"So what about him, Cato? How do you think ol' Mark is doing?" Clove spurred back to life. She too, claimed the other corner, and together they squished District Twelve in the middle of the elevator. The boy, a blond like him, shifted uncomfortably and starred at the screen pleadingly. He was dying to get out of this place as soon as possible; Cato held back a snort.

"That kid I volunteered for? Probably crying his eyes out in relief. He was always the wimp of his batch." Cato replied, keeping his eyes especially trained on the girl. She was more stoic than the boy, keeping her posture straight but rigid. If he had to pick which one of them could put up a better fight, it would have been her.

"His younger sister was almost happy at the sight of him on the stage," Clove said, picking at her nails. "Said he was a disgrace to the family." she smirked bemusedly, eyes flickering over at the boy beside her. His fingers were twitching now, and he looked like he was about to lose himself soon.

Cato cracked his knuckles. "Wouldn't be surprised. If I was her and we were both chosen for the Games? I'd kill him as soon as we're set free."

Clove giggled at that, and with amused eyes, watched as the metal doors finally slid open and released its tormented prisoners.

Cato did too, and just as the boy was about to leave, he decided to venture into the topic more and be daring. "Hey, District Twelve boy!" he called out, watching as the blond froze on the spot. Slowly turning around, Cato kept a bulky arm in front of the sensors to keep the doors from sliding close and leaned closer to the other boy. From the side of his eyes, he spotted the female tribute watch him with leery eyes. "You remind me of Mark." he casually observed.

"And what about it?" a cool voice demanded. Admittedly, these next set of words surprised him as they did not come out of the boy's mark. Instead, it came out from the girl who moved to stand behind him. Placing a hand on his shoulder, she pulled him back and stared Cato down. Her gray eyes were stormy and cynical. "Well?" she said.

Cato smirked and leaned back into the elevator, the faint music pulling him back into the tiny space. "Just thought I'd warn him, girl on fire." he answered.

As he did so, he happily watched as her face turned into a red scowl. Clove seemed to approve of this reaction as she took her time to get to the buttons and press "close". But just as the cool, slick doors were about to come together, Cato took one more step into provoking them. Every so casually, he rested his back against the wall and nodded at the two tributes. "'Night District Twelve; sleep peacefully." and with a wink, the doors shut, leaving District Two with agape mouths.

Concealing her laughter behind two hands, Clove settled to leaving her eyes shimmer in glee as she awaited for their floor to pop up. Having the two tributes barrage into their conversation and become target dummies for their tormenting was a bit more than distracting from what she intentionally wanted to tell Cato.

Although, as the two came at the crossroads, she finally remembered what she wanted to say. Turning around, she was about to call out to Cato, but found that he was nowhere in sight. The boy moved to quickly for her fondness, but realized that in the end – he had gotten what he had wanted. And if she hadn't known him for such a time, she would have cursed his name to oblivion in her head – but she didn't. Because she knew him and she knew what everybody else knew.

Cato always got what he wanted.


	4. Carry On

**Disclaimer: The Hunger Games does not belong to anyone but Ms. Collins.**

**Author's Note: _Finally, _I'm warming back up to my old writing style/comfort zone. As you will notice, this chapter is completely different from the old chapter four; *thinks: thank goodness*. The previous one was horrible, this, in my opinion is better. Feel free to contradict me...yatta yatta, yatta. Cato's opening has a reason to it which will be explored later on...yatta yatta yatta. Read on my wayward daughters and sons!**

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><p>There couldn't even be a moment nor second in Cato's mind that could reflect his current feelings. His stomach was lurching, pushing against his gut and the world around him grew hazier and hazier by the minute. Tense at this sudden raw emotion, he clutched onto the cool bed railing and managed to force down deep breaths into his system. Could it be a sickness? He doubted so. Cato was a healthy being who rarely experienced any illness. But still...his hand shot up to his head, feeling his temperature. He was slightly warm, yet that was only because of his sudden tipsiness.<p>

So what was it?

Something he ate? A feeling? Suspicion? Doubt? The answer weaved along those lines, escaping his brain. For he, the strong, prideful tribute had only felt this unfathomable emotion once before. And consequently, nothing good occurred after it in the past.

"_Cato?"_ Clove's muffled voice sailed through the room. She tapped on his door lightly. "Are you going to watch the reapings with us?" she asked after a few seconds; a couple more passed by before she heard him sigh and walk away.

No guilt surged up, but relief did. Collapsing on his pristine bed, Cato stared up at the blank ceiling and intertwined his hands together across his stomach. The estrangement had passed and left him bare; stripped of the usual confidence he held in each action and word he spoke.

_Damn it, what's wrong with me? _He thought quietly to himself. A new emotion tore his insides as he boiled with frustration. He wasn't used to feeling like this and he didn't plan on being accustomed to it either. Searching for a sense of calm in his mind, he turned over on his side and tugged grabbed the nearest pillow to cushion his head. He'd sleep it all way.

. . .

Stepping off of the cool platform, Cato and Clove emerged in form-fitting clothes. Giving the two a once over, Genevieve, their mentor, nodded in approval as she beckoned them over to the table. Silently and gracefully, they took their supposed seats and awaited for her to speak; such discipline and rigorous training already showing through their posture.

"Stand down?"

The children's heads shot to the left of the table, finding a colorfully dressed woman smiling at them in amusement. A cosmetic noise erupted from her vibrant lips, and what could only be giggling turned into a catastrophic sound; they turned their attention back to their mentor.

"So, training?" Genevieve smiled up at them, daintily wiping her mouth with a fine napkin. Interest captured their eyes as they returned to give her proper attention again. Genevieve gestured to the food laid out as she beckoned them to listen to while they ate. Finally, the Games could begin.

. . .

"_..you hit them hard and close to heart;"_

Intentionally breaking one of the plastic dummy's, Cato had to give praise to the creators for it flaunted a human-like quality. From behind, he heard a pair of shoes scurry away from him. A dark chuckle was forced out of the boy as he picked up the broken doll and placed it back with its other "injured" friends.

This section of the Games, the... "training" sect, was the second best part of it. Armed with a variety of weapons, toxins, and other survival stations, it was like a second-home to those who had trained their childhood for this sort of thing. Glorious courses ornamented the sides and ceiling, leaving an impression on even the most army-based brat the Capitol could ever hope to host.

And since Cato was there, the Capitol didn't have to hope any longer. He was truly awed by the grandness of everything; back at home, District Two had nothing to compete with this. But distractions were useless, and Cato shoved his amazement away; dusting his hands, he looked over to where Clove was as he recalled the last sentiments of his mentor's words.

"_You must know, our district prides itself in our importance and power. So never let them forget that District Two is a force to be reckoned with. Don't disgrace our name. and most of all have.."_

It was not part of her plan to actually _harm _any of the tributes. She just wanted someone to spar with and impart with them her strength. Obviously, her skills were out of par from the others as the knife in her partner's hands trembled in fear; besides that, blood trickled down her leg, and what seemed to be an infection was catching on.

Did she forget to tell her that she poisoned her knives?

_Oh well._

Attempting to look somewhat apologetic, she merely got a glare in return as the instructors rushed to her aid. Barely holding her comments in, Clove picked up the remainder of her collection and returned them to the table. There was a growing doubt in her that anyone would let her near that station again.

"_Fun?" Cato cut in, grinning at the prospects of that idea. _

"_No." Genevieve shot him a silencing look, sending Cato back to eating his food. Momentarily disarmed from the ravishing scent the bacon and eggs let go, she took a moment to recompose herself; the sound of steel utensils drawing her back to reality. "Show them that you _four_ are a _team."_ she finished._

_Cato almost choked on his orange juice._

"Glimmer looks like she needs help," Clove pointed out, her clear voice cutting through the distance that separated them. Cato looked to where her finger was pointed and saw that the blonde was indeed struggling to finish the training course. Clove sighed. "Can we still win with them on our side?" she questioned, a deeper meaning placed in her words. But they were lost in her partner's head as he focused on something else.

Pausing for a second to digest her words, Cato quietly kept his pace with her. _We? _He thought. _There was a "we" and "win"?_ Looking down at the girl beside him, he wondered if she processed the sentence like he did. In his world, there was no winning together. There was only pride and honor which was always attained by your lonesome. Not with someone. Not with her.

Crossing the remaining padded floors, he tilted his head to the side to catch Marvel's attention, and soon enough, they were a walking fortress. One that would soon crumble with another addition to it.

"I know," Marvel quietly spoke up. He commanded instant attention with his voice. "She may not look much, but Glimmer can fight..." his eyes trailed over to the panting girl. She had finally gone through the course. "She also likes you," he whispered, lowering his eyes. Cato raised an eyebrow. "So, she'll be doing her best now, if she wasn't before." he added.

"Just to impress him, right?" Clove laughed, teasingly shoving Cato ahead of them, and admittedly, closer to Glimmer. Her amusement increased though, as she saw his body grow rigid upon almost slamming into the girl.

"So how was the "intimidation" going?" she asked once they were all settled. The Career pack turned around to overlook everyone and saw that each tribute was busy in their own station. The small ones were like neon lights amongst the vast gray walls and high ceilings; tiny, young, and scampering to accomplish their given task – it was like a joke to even see them participating in such events. But with small ones, also came big ones. And those were the ones the Pack were wary about.

"There's District Eleven's living Hulk," Glimmer noted, causing District Two's eyes to round on her. Shrugging, she ignored their inquiring look. "It's some big, green guy in this old movie I saw a while ago." she said, refusing to elaborate any further.

"You guys can _watch _movies?" Clove asked, clearly appalled by the idea.

Glimmer nodded her head. "Why not?"

Rolling her eyes, Clove dismissed the question and turned back to their previous topic. "He does look pretty nasty, but I haven't seen him come close to any weaponry at all." she said.

Frowning, Marvel carefully inspected the giant from a distance. The boy was tall, dark, and very muscular. His steps appeared light and practiced, an easy grace streamed from him as he carefully finished making a fire.

"_Well,_" Cato interrupted. "I'd truly hate to get rid of all the doom and gloom stuff, but it's just one person. We," he caught Marvel's eye. "Can handle him. So can we eat now?" he asked, putting a hand to his firm, empty stomach. It had been a while since breakfast, and even then, he had rushed in eagerness to get back to training; even a few days of doing nothing can soften one up.

Giggling, Clove rolled her eyes and nodded in agreement. "We could or..." her voice trailed off, leaving a curious air hanging around them.

Glimmer frowned as she nudged Clove in the shoulder. "Don't leave us like that! What did you have in mind?" her urged.

Clove merely smiled back in answer and pointed over to another obstacle course. It was slightly similar to that of a rock climbing wall, but rather it was more intricate and dangerous; there were spikes protruding at random areas whilst some parts darted in and out of view. Not only that, but it spread through a fair amount of the west wall and provided enough space for all four of them to climb together if they wished.

Marvel chuckled as he picked up on her idea. "It would be fun." he mused, looking at the others for signs of approval; Cato, not one to back down from a challenge, nodded his head whilst Glimmer looked reluctant enough to give out a soft, "Sure."

Clove beamed. "Well? What are you all waiting for? Let's go!" she exclaimed, running over to the station. The trainer there looked at her with wide eyes as he spotted the rest of her company. Gulping at the gleam in their eyes, he quickly took to gathering all the harnesses he could get.

"Don't," Cato said as the trainer handed him one. "I won't need one." he grinned, glancing over at Marvel. The boy had also refused to establish himself some safety.

"But it's dangerous," the trainer warned after being rejected by the girls. The Pack shrugged in response, having been used to such conditions. Sighing, the trainer backed away to his chair. "Fine. Die before the Games." he muttered, pushing an obscure button that started up the wall's obstacles. Rolling his eyes, he watched as all four tributes jumped at the wall and began their ascend.

. . .

_This is too easy..._Cato thought as he was merely inches away from the bell. He looked below and saw that Marvel was close to catching up whilst Glimmer and Clove had taken to distracting each other. Chuckling at their foolishness, he was about to reach for the bell's rope when his fingers brushed through thin air.

_What? _Looking up, he saw that the bell was no more. To his side, he heard Marvel curse at the same situation he was placed in and saw that somehow, someone had sabotaged all four of them in mere seconds. That was impossible.

Anger filling him up, he easily reached the ground and stalked over to the bemused trainer. "Miss something?" the man asked mockingly.

Cato was not a happy camper.

Reaching for him, Cato pulled the man up by his collar and easily lifted him up inches off the ground with a scowl threatening to penetrate his composed expression. _"Where is it?"_ he seethed.

The trainer, sensing that the boy's threats were not groundless, gulped and shook his head. "I dunno! I swear! I didn't do anything!" he replied.

Cato roughly dropped and loomed over him. "Who else could have taken it that quickly then?" he growled.

The trainer broke in cold sweat as he scampered away from Cato. He didn't get much far as Clove had taken to surrounding his six. "I told you! I didn't do it!" he exclaimed.

Frowning, Cato's fists curled as he heaved the man back up to his feet.

"Wrong answer."

. . .

Although in the midst of his small tousle with the trainer, he failed to spot the giggling child hovering above him and the watching Pack. On her person were the four bells.


	5. Keeping Close

**Disclaimer: The Hunger Games does not belong to anyone but Ms. Collins.**

**Author's Note: **Short, simple, and overall, at least I updated? I was stuck on this part...seeing how I really have no clue how Cato would react to Peeta joining their ranks...but this is my look on how it probably went. Cato's the leader among the Careers because of his strenght? Psshhh...who says you can't have both brawns and brains?

ps. Can I have some criticism please? Flames...are a bit unwarranted, but I guess they can do too.

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><p><em>Hacking and slashing through countless victims seemed to be the only thought that imprinted itself into Cato's mind as the sixty-second-count dispersed from his mind. <em>

_His feet had carried him to an enormous amount of goodies and among them lay one of the most inductive weapons his eyes had spotted; glimmering in the sheer sunlight, his hands greedily wrapped around the hilt of the sword and brandished it out of the pack it lacerated. _

"_Cato! Behind you!" Clove shouted. She scurried out of the desperate few of tributes that had charged into the Cornucopia as she adjusted her newly acquired set of knives. Strapping some to her calves and prepping some for action, she quickly threw one towards his direction and watched with mild satisfaction as it sunk into a tribute's thigh._

_A scream behind the hulking District Two tore through the air as he brought upon his sword through the child's chest; a canon going off in sync with his kill. _

_Perhaps he should have enjoyed the murder more and relished it in a slower, more painful action, but the concern for putting up a show for the audience was shunned away as a shadow darted past him. _

_Reclaiming the sword for his own again, he charged through the dead bodies and equipment in pursue of his target. Unfortunately, he knew when to recognize that the girl was faster than him – her thin legs carrying her through the field like a light-weight feather. _

_Easing his hold on his weapon, Cato's speed slowed as his arm stretched back and launched the golden sword at the girl's back; a sickening blow it was – the weapon charging through her chest and purging out blood. _

_Yet, there was no regret or guilt that blossomed in him – he was trained to do this; he was born as a harbinger of death. _

. . .

"You want to _what?_" Clove's face scrunched up as she sniffed the rotting flesh emitting from the tired boy's body. Evidently, he was one of the few lucky ones that had escaped the blood booth.

Peeta Mellark was a sore thumb in the group of bloodied teenagers. A gold crown of hair was blessed on his head paired along with a pure eyes.

He was down on his knees was the Career Pack assembled before him. They were like gods of wore, slowly drifting into view; uniquely specializing in equipped weapons that were positioned at a threatening level.

But alas, none were as scary as _him. _

Appearing out of the the shadows of the Cornucopia, Cato boasted his strength through the amount of supplies he carried. But the one that grabbed Peeta's attention the most was the sword resting at his hip. It was bright and radiated in the setting light despite the blood that adorned it.

Dropping the things aside, he approached the rest of the pack.

"What's this?" he asked, sparing no glance at him; and, as if remembering that this was all being filmed, he added; "Dinner?"

The others laughed while Marvel shook his head.

"He wants to _join _us." he said.

Cato's eyes narrowed as they seemed to try to grasp some sort of logicality.

" Join? Us?" Cato finally gave him a glance. "Are you trying to pull a prank on us...lover boy?"

Clove moved in to deter Cato's concentration. Patting her trusty holster of knives, she silently suggested that they get this over and done with; Cato's eyebrows scrunched together in thought.

"Well?" Glimmer pestered impatiently.

"...We'll keep him. For now." Cato concluded.

Clove's hand fell limp to her side. Stepping forward, she pushed Cato back to buy themselves some privacy; Peeta gulped in the sidelines and shook in apprehension. _"And, why?" _she hissed.

Cato shrugged her hand off of his broad shoulder. "He's lover boy, Clove. He can get us to his partner."

"But what if she doesn't even like him? Then what?" Clove huffed. She refused to resign to such a foolish decision. Peeta, lover boy, would just be another leash to hold them back.

"We kill him." and with that, Cato marched his way back over to the group. A look over at Marvel got the boy to pull Peeta up to his feet.

"Listen, lov –"

"Peeta." he cut in. The nickname was wearing itself thin.

Cato pushed back the beast roaring inside of him. The boy would need to learn fast that he didn't take too well with being cut off. Rolling back his shoulders, he spoke once again. "Listen, _Peeta. _You really don't have much usefulness to us, but we'll let you in and see what you can do." he said.

"So god help us if you step out of line," Clove added from behind. She tapped her knives. "Because I plan on making your death slow and very painful."

Peeta nodded his head.

"Finally," Glimmer sighed. She retrieved her valued pack off the ground and glared at him. "Now be of use to us and help carry our load."


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: The Hunger Games does not belong to anyone but Ms. Collins.**

**Author's Note: **I know what you're thinking, _finally, she updated. _Sorry? I really am, but this thing just. Refused. Me_._ Its been nagging me for weeks about how long its been taking me to finish this chapter, but this particular part just refused to cooperate. So I hope you like it...? I absolutely promise to give the next chapter asap. It might be jumping towards the end of the games, or it might be just another part of it; either way, that's for me to decide. Anyway, a chapter of insight on our favorite Career...there's not much of excitement here, but this chapter is very necesscary to our cause if we want Cato to hopefully end up with Katniss...

You'll also notice some quotes gathered from the book, but they aren't much, just something to keep things going...

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><p>It was hardly dawn yet, but Cato was already rousing up the slumbering allies he had with his loud movements. First it was that District Twelve tribute, whose eyes had fluttered open in unison with Cato's; sleep had undoubtedly escaped the boy till now. He rose up without a word as the others woke up with more vigor in their bodies;<p>

Clove was the second one to wake, and had stashed the dagger she slept with back into a hidden pocket; the third, Marvel, who slid into this silent enigma while easily strapping some of his spears onto his back; Glimmer was last but still had the same outlook as the others – she too picked up her weapons, a silver bow and arrows, as they left camp.

"Should we split up?" Clove asked, rubbing the numbing cold from her fingers. Having stripped off her jacket for a chest plate with many knife sheathes, she had the least comfort in the freezing air in the group.

District One was the first to meet with wary eyes. Although an alliance protected them from their competitors, they couldn't afford to be reckless. They were the ones to dissuade Clove's idea.

"Look." Peeta's voice mumbled. For him, the silence was as biting as the cold that wrapped them in her cool embrace, but as his eyes accustomed themselves to the bright torches surrounding them, he spotted a dark haze arising from the air. Smoke. There was a fire somewhere.

Glimmer's eyes narrowed as she stared at the estranged tribute, wondering if he was pulling a trick on them. Trust was already hard to come by between her and the other careers, yet it was more tangible than the one she sought for in outsiders; no less from a person that shouldn't even be with them.

"I...I see it!" Clove yelled out excitedly, she bore out two malicious daggers as she pointed over to the East. "There's a fire nearby!"

And with the adrenaline rising among the group of killers, they wasted no time in brandishing out their own weapons to join the girl. They ran over fallen logs and rocky terrains before they hovered in the darkness of the trees.

Ecstatic eyes danced from face to face as they tried to discern who would be making this first kill. At the beginning, they thought it would be lover boy's victim, but after quickly reminding themselves that he was only a minor – a more competitive batch of forced whispers spread through the careers.

"I'll do it!"Clove finally hissed as she sprouted from the shadows. Her knives were poised as she jumped onto the frightened girl. They momentarily rolled on the ground, fighting for supremacy which was quickly thrown onto Clove. The ghost of death trembled on her victim's face as her knives cut an angry 'x' on her cheeks; her target screamed and plead for release, but the strangled voice fell on deaf ears.

"Please." she cried – Clove ran two daggers down the stretch of her abdomen. _"Please!"_

Then the carnage stopped, and once the tribute thought it safe to open her eyes, she saw Cato's sword plunging into her body; Peeta looked away.

"Whoo!" Marvel grinned, kicking over the dead girl's body into the flickering flames. "That sure was a nice one, Clove!" he congratulated.

Glimmer nodded in approval as she dug up the pack that the tribute had managed to pry off at the beginning of the Games. There was nothing useful in it save for a box of matches which she greedily stuffed away. "Hardly recognizable, don't you think, Cato?" she glanced over to the appeased boy.

He was smoothing out the blood from his blade on the grass. His thoughts were clouded, but at the sound of her voice, he looked up and smirked in agreement. "Yeah," Marvel voiced his impending thoughts. "Twelve down and eleven more to go!"

This statement rallied up the others to create another chorus of ruckus as they finally had the decency to check the corpse for useful objects. To their disappointment, she had none at her disposal, and so Cato suggested that they vacate the area before they too, stink with her smell. But alas, Peeta disobeyed. He lingered in the back for a while before he followed them. His mind was replaying the scene all over again. The tribute's scream, the blood, her pleas...

Then it focused on Clove's morbid lacerations, Marvel's entertained grin, Glimmer's apathetic expression, and then finally, Cato's bloody termination.

Peeta also couldn't forget those imploring eyes that had briefly focused on him. And what had he done in return? Shied away, turned his head, and detached himself from all senses and emotions? It was almost as bad as being the one who took her life.

"_Wait,"_ Clove said. "Shouldn't we have heard a cannon by now?" she looked over at Cato for an answer, but saw that his attention was centered on the awning in the distance.

The boy could have sworn...

"I'd say yes. Nothing to prevent them from going in immediately." she replied impatiently.

"Unless she isn't dead." Marvel quietly insinuated.

This sentence hooked into Cato's mind as he was reeled back to their conversation. Fiercely, he turned on his foot to glare at Marvel. Fists curling, he spoke with a frightening ease. "She's _dead. _I struck her myself."

"Then where's the cannon?" the tribute tested, stepping closer into dangerous waters; waters that were mined, and if one more unwary step was taken – would explode the whole area.

Glimmer stepped in and pushed Marvel back. Death was so close to him...he was an idiot for trying to taunt it. "_Guys,_" she stressed out. "Let's just get someone to go back. Make sure the job's done."

"Yeah, we don't want to have to track her down twice." Marvel retorted carelessly. His sentence was simple and complied to Glimmer's suggestion, but beneath it was a completely different underlying meaning.

Unfortunately for him, Cato wasn't dense enough to not sense it. "I said she's dead!" he roared, shoving Marvel into the tree behind him. The boy hit it hard, but to his credibility, he didn't fall like most. His academy may have not been as rigid and unrelenting as Cato's, but they proved to be good enough against its to both academies' failure, temperament and self-control was of the least most focused skill in their curriculum.

Clove stepped up to back her district partner up; "If Cato says she's dead, then she's dead. The Gamemakers are just probably lagging with the cannon." she defended.

"You really think the Capitol would ever allow that to happen? Every moment in this arena is captured by cameras. Cameras operated by _people._" Marvel argued.

"You just keep talking then, District One, and we'll see who won't be in the taping anymore." Cato snarled, holding the hilt of his sword tighter and tighter.

"And what makes you think it won't be you instead, eh?" Just one more step closer, and the mines were sure to be set off a loud detonation; perhaps one grand enough to wake up every civilian in the Capitol's holding, and just maybe they would be able to experience one sleepless night that almost all of the districts experience in hunger's prowling wake.

And besides, with Cato, one of the most anticipated tributes in the Games, a part of this sudden outburst – who knew how much the Gamemakers were willing to play in this bomb's role.

There hands were already itching close to their weapons, minds programmed to kill at the start...and if one of them just made any sign to attack...well...

"_We're wasting time!_" All of the careers' heads snapped to Peeta's direction. The tribute was already retreating back to the open area. "I'll go finish her so we can move on!" he exclaimed.

. . .

"_I'll go finish her so we can move on!"_

Katniss almost fell out of her tree, and she thanked the gods that she had the intellect to belt herself to it before falling asleep. But it wasn't the countless leaves poking at her from her capitulated position, it wasn't the blood racing up to her head either. It was Peeta's sudden appearance in the Career Pack that caused tiny sharp stabs of pain to her being.

He made alliances with the careers. He paired himself up with the most disgraceful, hated tributes of the game, and yet he still had the gall to relay his thoughts of nobility to her before the night of the Games?

_Well, _Katniss thought. He could rot in the most vicious pits of the underworld for all she cared. Peeta was as good as dead to her now.

. . .

Glimmer kept a good ear trained on Peeta's steps before she spoke out again. Undermining thoughts had caused her to turn helplessly into a tiring night's sleep. Every dream was brought on with fresh waves of fear that the weak boy, who had scored a measly eight, would finally work up the courage to slit their throats as they slept.

Of course, only she had that fear.

"Let him tag along. What's the harm? And he's handy with that knife." Clove shrugged off. She loved a good jump, even if it was from harmless Peeta. "Besides," she sat down on the ground as she recalled Cato's plan. "She's our best chance of finding her."

Glimmer leaned over on the tree bark, careful to stray away from the boys. "You really think she bought into that sappy romance stuff?" she asked.

Cato sighed as he finished making a temporary peace with Marvel. "Well it seemed pretty simple-minded to me. Just remembering her spin around in that dress makes me wanna throw up. I mean," he glowered as he reminiscences the scores. "How could a girl that spins like she's three, pull a score higher than any of us?"

Tall, begrudging Marvel thought back to that night. He threw everything he had into that training center only to be outshone by an eleven from the most unexpected tribute. Well, there was that tiny girl from District Eleven, but he doubted that she even qualified to make a score. "Wish we knew how she got it." he added.

"Bet you Lover Boy knows." Cato murmured, looking back up at the awning he was inspecting earlier. With the moon slowly kissing farewell at the sky, the early streaks of the morning sun brought better light into that dark space. He thought he saw something over there earlier...

The careers silenced as they heard Peeta returning to them. Cato looked away from the peculiar spot. "Was she dead?" he asked.

And Katniss sighed. His probing eyes had almost caught onto her wide, fearful ones...

"She is now." and the cannon went off.


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: The Hunger Games does not belong to anyone but Ms. Collins.**

**Author's Note: **So I decided to take the more detailed, longer approach of the Games. Although have no fear! I assure you that after this chapter, a lot of things will go out of the original context and plot line of Ms. Collin's version of The Hunger Games, and will finally be compromised into a version slightly more gory - yet sure to include our long awaited pairing. Hope you like this latest update~

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><p>The last breeze of the afternoon wafted through the treetops, quickly embracing them goodbye. Yet the amount of brief, frigid air it offered was not suffice enough to cover the wearier bunch of the Pack. They wiped their sweat off their sleeves and hoped that for once, Cato would be worn out enough to remain idle for a few more moments. But of course, Peeta and Glimmer were preaching to the converted and devoted.<p>

"The fire's done." Marvel declared, dropping the last load of supplies with the others. It had been an unfortunate event for them to lug everything to a safer spot, but they reasoned that the Gamemakers had an idea of what they were doing for performing such a brash move. Burning down almost half the forest? Admittedly, it made their jobs as hunters easier, but still...

"Better be," Clove said. She gently lifted her sleeve up to look at the hot, pounding burn on her arm; she winced as it irritated from the movement. "The thing got me."

Cato momentarily gazed up to see the nasty injury decorating her arm. "We're by a lake, Clove." he pointed out before returning to arranging the supplies into a high stack. He'd be pressed with paranoia if he had to sleep with all of their valuables carelessly strewn everywhere.

"I know, _Cato._" her eyes narrowed as she seethed this statement out. But as she was about to calm the burn down with the cool water, a soft jingle broke her concentration and drew it to a small box floating a few steps into the lake. Casting a wary glance around, Clove checked to make sure that no one else spotted it before wading into the lake. She snatched up the box, drowned the parachute it came with by the use of a rock, and hurried back to shore before anyone noticed.

_I wonder..._Cato thought. His actions were mechanical as they piled their things into a pyramid, thus allowing his eyes to stray off. They had landed back on Clove to check on her injury, and just as he thought she was going off to swim the pain away – he saw her movements become close and precise.

Clove no longer lumbered in a stoic, apathetic attitude, no – she moved with purpose and wariness; he watched as she tore open a box and pulled out a small container of medicine. The idea of betrayal instantly flashed in his mind, but he pushed the anger it brought with it down and proceeded with his task.

_Let them play by favorites, _he thought. He would show them the karma of their actions later on.

"Hey!" Glimmer exclaimed – the others silenced. "I hear something over there." Inclining her head to the farther shroud of trees to the east, Marvel, being the closet, dropped the packs he was carrying and exchanged them for one of his spears.

Seconds ticked by until their hidden prey finally noticed the abrupt silence.

"I see him!" Marvel shouted, sprinting after the fleeing tribute. Carrying his weight between quick yet light steps, it was only a matter of time before he caught up with the child; nothing could beat Marvel's intense speed. So as trees began to merge, and the scenery around him began to mix – he got closer and closer to the tribute until he had him pinned to the ground.

"Please!" the boy beneath him sobbed. "Let go!"

Although where hesitancy slept, restlessness grew. Marvel drew the spear above his head, ready to kill until Cato caught up to him. He grabbed the spear's shaft in time to stop the tribute's impending death; birds digested the situation and fled in urgency.

"What was _that _for?!" Marvel yelled, pushing himself off the boy; the latter whimpered in despair as he scurried his lank body to the base of a tree.

Cato, without a word spoken, pointed over to the pack that Marvel's prey had dropped. It was littered with complicated mechanisms, but Marvel had an idea of what Cato was getting to. "Are these..what are these?" he questioned the boy.

"B-bombs." the District Three boy trembled in reply.

"From the beginning of the games, am I right?" Cato asked this time. The boy nodded his head. "Well, looks like you won't die today, kid." he said, then grabbed the spear from Marvel's hands. "You carry the guns and I'll keep an eye on the boy. Let's move." he ordered.

And through the brevity over their travel, the trees began to look more sinister with the casting sun. Shadows became monsters and the two, tall tributes guiding the frightened boy transformed into gargoyles leading him to his death cell.

Although the silence was welcomed, the boy learned that it would only last a little as two figures darted pass them as they entered an opening. A glistening lake stood in the distance with a stockade of supplies piled up high. His eyes were wide as countless possibilities circled his head, but they were knocked away as a fist came pounding on his head; his shoes were the last things his eyes had the pleasure to see.

"_How long do you it will last?"_

"Does it matter? We can always catch him again, it's her that we want now!" Cato exclaimed, following the trail that the girls had trampled on. Their chase was short-lived as they arrived at the base of a tree. Up above it rested Katniss Everdeen, waving at them like they were friends.

"Why don't you guys join me? The view up here is great!" Katniss bellowed down at them.

Cato's interest piqued as he grinned up at her. "Yeah," he replied. "Think I will!" and then, he jumped as high as he could and hung onto the nearest branch. It was just like training in the academy all over again when he was younger, but this time, he underestimated his wall's strength. Where weight was greatly convenient in matches, it was a considerable disadvantage for this obstacle.

Then finally, his hold finally gave away and Cato slid back to the ground. The pain his fingers experienced from trying to hold on was immense, but it was nothing compared to the damage and humility his ego was faring with. Although before he could get another word in, Glimmer decided to take the next approach.

"I got this!" she exclaimed, taking out the silver bow. With one of the keenest eyes, Cato saw something in Katniss burn as Glimmer attempted to bring down their prey – the arrow sorely missed its target as Katniss grabbed it from the bark beside her and waved it over her head.

"Thanks!"

"Give me that." Cato growled, and tried his own luck at getting Katniss down. But like Glimmer, his try was futile and flew out of sight. The only difference it held was that it got closer, but still left Katniss unharmed. Silently enraged by his failure, Cato took it out on the only thing he could – the bow.

With a sickening crack, he broke the thing into two. This elicited a gasp from Glimmer as she fumbled to pick up the two separate pieces. That was hers he broke!

"Sorry." murmured Cato, stepping out of Glimmer's way. Yet his apology was in vain as he cared little about her feelings. Sure, it felt nice to have a pretty girl hanging on his arm – but she was getting tiresome and Cato really didn't plan on investing that much time on her any longer.

"Let's just set up camp here right now, I mean, it's not like she's going anywhere. We can get her tomorrow." Peeta said, staring at what once was Katniss' only shot of using her archery to win the Games.

The Careers mumbled in what appeared to be an agreement and quickly lay out their packs for makeshift pillows, though sleep did not come easy – they spent their next waking hours plotting on taking Katniss Everdeen down.

. . .

Convulsing pain.

That was what Cato's whole body felt like. He awoke by a blood-chilling scream, and saw that Glimmer, who had fallen asleep on his arm, was running frantically in circles as she swatted at insects flying overhead. _Tracker jackers..._

Jumping up in alert, Cato had the good sense to drop everything and run - not once looking back if anyone else had woken with him.

_Zzzzzzzz!  
><em>

Cato jumped over a log when he had heard that strange noise. To his far left he saw a whole swarm of black and yellow bugs closing in on him slowly transform into a gigantic drill teacher. Shaking his head, Cato tried to block the effects of that one bite before he felt another land on his neck. Quick to flick it away, Cato finally came to the clearing and jumped into the lake. There, he submerged and held his breath - fending whatever important thoughts of oxygen away. It was either his lungs suffered, or all of him died.

Seconds ticked by until another splash, and the another that resonated throughout the lake which was followed by another, and soon enough, he saw Clove's face contorted in pain as she tried to hold her lightweight body down in the water. With her focus slipping and hallucination bringing her up, Cato finally had the decency to look past the illusion of her corpse and pull her down back into the water with him.

The cold that was biting their skin and lungs was extremely uncomfortable, but alas, the buzz of those horrid insects finally dispersed and they finally came up from air.

Coughing, Cato breathed back life into his numbing body as he dizzly made for shore with Clove tugged along. The two tributes collapsed into the warm grass and lay there for a few seconds before Cato forced himself to stand up and look about him. They were back at their previous camp. The supplies remained untouched, yet their hostage had disappeared. Marvel was gasping for air on the other side of the lake, appearing to leisurely take out the barbs embarked on his skin while Clove remained frozen in her comatose-like state. She twitched and writhed in pain, but the control she had left in her body was spent on keeping her cries down.

In that moment, Cato forgot she was someone he had to kill later and began to hastily take out her own barbs. Countless of times, he almost found himself falling over, the temptation of just giving up the fight against the poison very strong. But Cato never gave up, and he continued to go on until the task was finished; Clove was safe for now, and in the back of his head, he made a note to present this fact into her head later on.

"_Ugnhhhh..."_

The ruthless tribute's head snapped to the side and saw the one and only Peeta Mellark. Instantly, he was reminded of Katniss and a fresh wave of anger flooded his body. It was as if a dormant volcano in him had burst forth and the lava was burning everything in sight. His skin was hot and feverish due to his trembling fury and all he saw was pure red and Katniss' blood spilling on the bare ground; Cato ripped the sword loosely attached to his off and drunkenly made way to Katniss' previous location.

"No!"

Tackled to the side, Cato swiped at Peeta in a mad haze. He had to get to Katniss. He had to kill her! And nothing would get in the way, not even Peeta. Pinned to the ground, Cato took the opportune moment to swipe a fist at Peeta's boyish face and grinned at the sound that marked the contact. Again and again he beat his face until he finally brought up his sword to finish the sight.

With his right eye bloodied and swollen, Peeta had little vision left to discern what was happening around him. But when he did see Cato's sword, he brought up all the strenght he had left and kneed Cato in the groin to push him away.

"Get...back here!" he heard Cato yell, and that motivated Peeta even more to hurry up and warn Katniss.

"Arghhh!" Peeta tripped over his own foot as Cato's wild swing contacted with his thigh. If it had been anymore powerful, he would have sliced through his leg. But thanking his luck, Peeta exerted all his energy on getting away, the only thought racing through his head was to make sure that Katniss would be safe.

He saw her staring at a disformed Glimmer on the ground.

_"What are you doing?!_" he hissed, grabbing her upper arm. Peeta pulled the dazed Katniss up and began pushing into a random direction. "Go! Run, Katniss! Run!" he screamed, and watched as his first love stumbled out of the vicinity. Pleased by her gone footsteps, Peeta was about to flee as well until Cato's sword managed to indulge itself with more of Peeta's blood and flesh.

Grimacing in pain, the star-crossed lover, pulled the sword out of his gut and fell to his knees. Cato was still a few feet away, meaning that he had thrown his sword to slow him down. But Peeta refused to die so easily and threw the sword into a pile of bushes and at once, clawed himself upright and began to limp away.


	8. Venom Takes

**Disclaimer: The Hunger Games does not belong to anyone but Ms. Collins. -this disclaimer has been pre-written in almost every other chapter I have written out. That just testifies to how lazy I am on making it more interesting.**

**Author's Note: **What? What is this? I'm updating more frequently than the usual one month, one chapter pace? Well! I don't wanna break anyone's hope, but...this will most likely be my last update until I finish my exams for the beginning of the school year. So_ unless_ you wonderful readers manage to persuade me with lots of feedback...*hint hint* XD, I probably won't feel _that _guilty on leaving you guys for a while. I mean, it was 3 updates in a span of under 5 days, right? One could only be so lucky & creative XD I digress, enjoy?

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><p><em>Curled, trembling fists manifested on his brothers' hands as they stood bitterly against the cynical eyes of the uniformed men around them. A harsh wind, also in attendance to the cold group; a young Cato kept his parents as a shield from the biting waves.<em>

"_...rest in peace." the sermon had ended. Then the Peacekeepers stood up and closed around the wooden casket. Gloved hands too glorious to touch the brass handles, cringed upon contact on it. With a silent order, they lifted the coffin and sent it towards a graveyard. Cato's father, temporarily crippled, saluted them ominously; no one daring to ask if he was troubled for standing so long._

"_Come on, Cato." his mother said, gently leading her son away from the funeral site. Unlike other women's hands in District Two, they weren't calloused and soft as a newborn baby's skin. If he could, Cato would have purred like a cat under her feathery touch._

_The dark parade was small and calculated. They marched back to their house, with no other relative to mourn with them, and settled around the dinner table in an ambiguous silence; his mother had filed into their modest kitchen to prepare their supper. _

"_Rest in peace my ass, they actually think we believe them when-" the eldest brother, Calif, stopped the younger boy from continuing on his long tirade with a hiss. Billowing eyes slid towards young Cato's pale face, and the boy took the hint and phased out of the room; he knew that Calif and his mother protested against the use of such vulgar words, and therefore took the care to dismiss Cato whenever his second, oldest brother started a stream of profanity._

_It was an act of futile refining valor, his father had once said. A virtue that was useless unless they planned on living in great wealth, eating large meals under the grand ceilings of a victor's house; at once, Cato sought for the day his family would be able to move into the Victor's Village since hearing that statement._

_Entering the next room, the living room, Cato took solace on the couch with a book propped up on his tiny knees. Books were scarce in his house, but the ones scattered around were owned by his brothers; Calif's told of gallantry in knights of old while Carter's spoke of survival tactics and weapon usage. The one Cato was currently digesting was one of Carter's. It contained pictures of savage people handling gruesome spears contorted into grotesque proportions – a normal child would have been mortified at the elaborate drawings, but Cato remained immersed in the book, absorbing every little detail and word with ease._

"_Cat..oh, reading again, are we?" his mother clucked her tongue against her cheek as she pulled the book out of her child's hand. She carefully stowed it away on a high shelf of their only bookcase, along with his brother's other books. "You know, when you go to _school, _books like that won't give you a step ahead of the others." she chastised, lifting him up and onto her lap._

"_It will give him a better advantage of those in the Academy, though." Cato's eyes widened as he looked up at his father. His presence was rarely acknowledged by him, and now of all times was a big surprise to the four-almost-five-year-old boy; he felt his mother shrug him off of her lap._

"_Cato will be an _educated _man, though. Right, dear?" his mother stood up, a light of independence and strength shining around her. Yet, his father strongly glowed in a different way._

"_Educated to know the anatomy of humans, their vital organs and nerves, and the right ways to kill them – yes. Lisa," there went a sigh. "Stop investing in our son and hoping that he'll turn out differently than his brothers. He's going to the Academy, whether you like it or not." the towering man had his arms crossed against his large torso, Cato shrunk deeper into his seat._

"_That's the problem, I _don't _like it. And you should care about what I think! We've already sacrificed two of our sons to this...unprecedented obsession you have," she said; suddenly, Cato felt heavier than before. "It's tearing us apart! And you've seen what could happen if they do win; you've seen my mother whose been locked in a mental ward for her own sake. You've seen her stock of morphling, and you've _just _been to her funeral. And I just can't risk it. I don't want any of my sons having to turn to that bloody needle for comfort!" she exclaimed._

_Cato stood up as his father lashed out at his mom. The loud slap seemed to resonate throughout the blank room, and Cato tried to catch his mother from her fall – but his brothers were in the way. One of them, Carter, was dressed in a drill instructor's gear, smiling maliciously as he kept Cato from protecting his – their – mother from the stabs of yells she was receiving._

"_Calif, Calif, come on..." he looked at his other brother – but found the reflective visor of a Peacekeeper's helmet blankly gazing down at him. _

"_Mom!" he shouted, trying to reach her. Cato was eighteen now, had fully grown into his bulky body and had transpired from an innocent into a skilled killer. His brothers roughly pushed him to the floor as his parents vanished into smoke._

_Carter peered down at him and suddenly, his camouflaged fatigues had morphed into primitive clothing – a familiar spear conveniently hung on his hand. "Told you, you would get killed, brother." he grinned before running the spear across his torso. Carter pulled it back out and carved an eleven on his biceps. "That's the score that you failed to get." he tormented, throwing the weapon into his stomach. It was a painful shot, but it still wasn't enough to kill him – and Cato fought every thought desiring a quick death._

"_I'll kill you." he seethed, pulling the spear out. But just as he was about to launch it into Carter's mocking face, it slithered out of his grasp as a snake and bit his ankle. This time, Cato's control was lost and he screamed._

"_Cato!"_

_A black sheet of dizziness was cornering his vision. He was back to being four, and the living room didn't look so inviting anymore. He saw the stained spots on his comfortable couch, the chips of peeled paint on the floor, the reality of his brother's books, and the fake security that sprouted from Calif's lips. Little Cato shuddered as he hastily put the book back on the table and hurried to the kitchen, seeking his mother's comfort._

"_Cato!" _

_His mother smiled warmly upon him and ran her hand over his fuzzy hair. _Yes, _he thought. There was still some sort of truth around him. His mother's hands would forever be soft. "Hungry? Want to taste my soup?" she offered, putting the ladle low enough for his mouth to reach._

_Cato eagerly took a sip of his mother's cooking, but found the taste to be too metallic and distraught. He spit it out on the tiled floor, and to his shock, saw blood. "Mom?" he shakily asked._

_His mother looked down again with her smile, but something was off. There was an angry mark on her cheek, and she oddly resembled his grandmother. His deceased, insane, grandmother..._

"_Mom, can I s-see your hand?" he asked, and once he received it, his tiny fingers trembled as they traced the soft scars that danced malevolently across her palm. _

"_Cato..?"_

The tribute awoke to a blazing sunrise that blinded his eyes. No birds sang in praise of a new day, and the odd scent of mechanical oil sprung to his nose. Cato groaned as he sat up, and saw that he was back at the lake, it's blanket of blue shimmered in a dark abyss of unknown as it playfully slapped against the banks of green grass. The morning dew drew a charmed glare against the rising sun and traced out a path to the woods behind him; the trees were hollow and for once, uninviting to Cato's eyes.

"Awake?"

Cato was startled, but didn't let it on as he turned to Marvel. The boy was sitting idly on his sleeping bag, the remnants of a fire stubbornly holding against his attempts to wipe out the few remaining embers; beside him, Clove was fast asleep.

"How long have I been out?" Cato questioned, grabbing the staunch meal beside Marvel's pack. He munched on the dried meat without thought of possibly upsetting his stomach.

"Two days. I took out the barbs in your skin, and I would have carried you over here, but you're heavier than Clove." Marvel replied. Being the fastest out of the trio, he had left them and the Tracker jackers in a burst of speed without ever looking back. He was the one who came out of the ordeal with nothing but a lost of breath and soaked clothes in the end.

"Did anything happen while I was out?"

"Only the death of Glimmer. Lover Boy and the others are still alive since I couldn't hunt with the two of you happily passed out." answered Marvel. He stood up and looked over the scenery once before grabbing his spear.

Cato tensed. "And where are you going?" he asked.

Marvel chuckled dryly. "You think I haven't done anything at all? I didn't babysit the two of you the whole two days. I set up some traps, and I'm _going _to check up on them. Unless you wanna join me, I'm not really patient." he said.

Cato rolled his eyes and waved the tribute off. "Hope you die..." he mumbled as he watched Marvel melt into the shadows of the trees. He slowly ate away the rest of his meal before downing two bottles of water and heading over to their stock of supplies. By them, was District Three working with the bombs.

The boy froze at Cato's sudden appearance, but the latter ignored him. Digging through the various packs, he finally came up with a new sword and two daggers. Although the last two were in Clove's marked stash, he guessed what she didn't know wouldn't provoke her.

. . .

_There, _Cato thought, spotting the green leaves with his flashlight. He trudged back to the camp with new promises of a better death for Marvel as he threw his picks onto his lap. Marvel looked up from the light of the fire and unnecessarily grinned; he finished frying the groosling that one of his net's caught and passed Cato half the meal.

Behind them, shivering in the cold, was their victim chewing on cold, dried fruit; his only light being the stars.

"Think she'll wake up soon?" Marvel asked, glancing over at Clove. She had curled up into a ball and was buried in all the sleeping bags they could conjure up. According to Marvel's description, she appeared better than two days before. Still, Cato thought she looked bad.

"_Your voice gives me migraines."_ she hissed in an unexpected reply.

This brought up small chuckles from the two boys as Cato prodded her with his foot. "Come on and eat. It's been almost three days, Clove." he said.

The girl shrank farther away from him. "No thanks." she bitterly replied.

Cato frowned and threw a stick at her. "It wasn't a request." he said.

"And that was an answer of defiance," she turned around in her sleeping bags to glare at him. Her eyes had an eerie glow as the fire's light bounced off of them. "I'm not hungry, Cato." she said.

Marvel coughed awkwardly to diffuse any argument daring to spring up. "Hey, if she doesn't wanna eat, then she doesn't have to. She isn't like you, Cato. She actually has the ability to be human and feel the after-effects of the stings." said Marvel.

Cato's eyes narrowed at him. Marvel had no idea of what he was talking about. Cato did feel the effects of the stings. In fact, he still did, and if he didn't, well, he would have had enough energy to pound some sense into his ally's head. But alas, he did not, and Cato quietly resumed to eating his meal.

Meanwhile, Clove sighed in relief as she rolled over on her back. She could feel Marvel's eyes on her, but when she turned to meet them – there was no emotion held in their orbs. Just pure emptiness.

"Your voice still annoys me." Clove finally spoke up.

Marvel only laughed in reply.

. . .

The next morning that happened, it was Clove who woke up first. She was dazed and lost upon meeting dawn's sky, but took consolation in knowing that the pain she had felt last night hadn't killed her off. But starvation inevitably would.

Casting a wry look at Cato's sleeping outline, Clove recalled the outline of their base camp and found the piles of supplies waiting for her. She was about to stride towards the nearest one when a hand whipped out in front of her.

Surprised, Clove tried to grasp for a knife that she had stashed by her side, only to realize that all her weapons had been taken away. Scorned, Clove settled with grabbing the hand to pull its owner closer to her. Once she saw the head, her other arm snaked around the neck as she neatly flipped her body over her victim's and strangled him to the ground.

"Wait, wait!"

Clove tightened her hold until the boy could no longer wheeze out pleas. She also tried to discern what tribute he was, but found that someone had pried her off of him too early to find out. About to retaliate to this newcomer, Clove stopped mid-kick as she saw Marvel's face grimacing at her.

"Up so early?" he said, letting go of her. He stooped down and ungracefully pulled her victim to light. "This guy is still needed." Marvel told Clove, pointing over to the number three stitched on his sleeve.

Clove shrugged as she let her foot down and exhaled. The adrenaline was leaving her, and after that short exchange, she was left with a desire to kill for more action. "He started it." she said.

"Sure," Marvel replied, clearly in doubt. He dropped the boy and began walking back to camp when Clove stopped him before he could get any closer.

"Is there anymore of last night's meal left?"


	9. Six Blind Mice

**Disclaimer: The Hunger Games does not belong to anyone but Ms. Collins.**

**Author's Note: **Surprise! Well, I actually found time to post this, and hopefully its well liked. Though I didn't linger on too much description this time, I hope that you guys won't sue me for that. It's just that with all the events in this chapter, I feared that it would never get done if I went to my daily expectation of full-out angsty descriptions. Especially for this particular piece. Anyway, this is my first time writing it all out in Katniss's side, so I'm sorry if it's a bit rough. I probably won't do it in her point of view that often anyway since I plan on playing with Cato's thoughts more since he was barely explored as a character compared that of to I'll stop talking, and enjoy~

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><p>The leaves drowned in the lake as the birds flew from the trees. Everything was exceedingly quiet in the arena with the exception of the lake's waters softly lapping on the shore. Against the late afternoon's sun, animosity tingled in the Careers' stomachs; they had sat idle long enough.<p>

Situated far from their prying eyes, Katniss watched as the Careers aroused from their lax positions and fussed over something in the distance; Rue had begun the first fire. Carefully reaching for a knife, Katniss attentively observed them momentarily arguing about the boy holding the spear; _District Three. _Though the whole thing was short-lived, the pack finally came to a conclusion of bringing him with them while leaving Cato on guard-duty; obviously, the latter was extremely _pissed _to be left behind.

Katniss breathed in as she assessed the layout before her. She really had her work cut out, and had been highly anticipating on the variable that it would only be the tiny boy that she would have had to deal with. Clearly, the odds were not in her favor. But she had to hurry, her mind was in constant dread about Rue's safety. They only had so much time...

_Schwk!_

Both Katniss' and Cato's head snapped towards the flurry of bushes shaking; dread filled one while excitement motivated the other. Grabbing his spare sword, Cato gave chase to whatever unlucky tribute had crossed his path while Katniss focused on the stroke of luck that ran down her way. She weighed the options she had at hand about the stock of supplies. It was either she burned them or hauled them towards the lake. Both were risky and time consuming, but she had to pick one soon.

Yet, her thoughts again were interrupted by a redheaded girl sprinting into the scene. As soon as she reached a certain closure between the supplies and fair ground, she began to preform an intricate dance. She hopped to one place, skipped a spot entirely, nearly walked through a line easily, and...the list went on. Katniss held onto her knife tightly as she watched as the girl weaved her way through what seemed to be a patchwork of hidden mines...

_Mines..?_ The cogs in her head were turning as the girl, District Five, finally took out her pack and began stocking it with bags of goodies. Most of the stolen presents she took were meager supplies of food. Her takings were small and inconspicuous, leaving no obvious signs of her robbery. Smart.

Then, after loading up as much as she could, she began her return dance once again, and when she left the supposed mines' reach, a stroke of slyness crept onto her grin, and at once, Katniss thought she looked like one of those cunning foxes.

"Going somewhere?"

Both girls froze and the silence whistled with frightening casualness. District Five, Foxface, twisted the backpack in her clammy hands as she stared over at the pristine lake; Katniss took the responsibility of staring aghast at Cato's sudden appearance. His face held its customary smirk, but there was something bloody about it. Looking down, Katniss spotted a dead rabbit clutched in his hand – its fur completely soaked in its own blood.

"I have to admit, you're pretty smart – but did you really think your plan would work that perfectly?" Cato threw the rabbit away and smudged its blood on his shirt. He tossed his sword from hand to hand before he claimed his vulturous stance.

Katniss could see Foxface gulp, and in those few moments, Cato had covered half the distance before his victim threatened him with a rock she picked up. "It only takes one." she stammered out, testing the tiny boulder's weight in her palm.

Cato's eyes narrowed, but his sword arm fell to his side. "How did you find out? Three tell you?" The hostility that swarmed him came off in waves, and the one that Katniss was receiving was telling her to run. But she couldn't tear her eyes away from the scene – she remained glued to her tree.

Foxface shook her head and uttered no more. She began her slow withdrawal to the green maze until something came down her lithe body. Hopelessly staring at the retreating spearhead, Foxface's mouth was equivalent to an 'o' before her eyes glazed over and sunk forever to the back of her head; the blood pouring out her wound matching her hair...

_Boom!_

Katniss forced her eyes to close as the kill kept replaying in her head. It was if as she was right in front of the girl, feeling her life blood splatter all over clothes...

"...made a run for it."

_So Three ran away..._

"Thought I'd check back here and warn you. Then I found _her," _the scrawny tribute poked at the dead girl's body. "Stalking along the edges, and I thought I'd watch before I jumped in to kill." he finished, grinning slightly at his freshest murder.

Forcing her uneven breaths to come out easy and clean, Katniss was about to turn back until she heard that special tune. Rue was done with the fire. Cursing at her luck, the girl on fire fought between hitting the careers' supplies or returning back empty handed to assure Rue's safety.

_None of us are safe with them running around, _Katniss thought, finally taking action. She jumped down from her tree and made a quick entrance to the opening. The sun appeared to shine brighter and tried to blind her from her decision, but she stuck through. She smiled and waved at the boys.

"Thought I'd apologize for those Tracker jackers." she greeted, mentally picturing the audience back in the Capitol. They were probably having a party back then about this current outcome, the drunks probably betting on who'd come out alive after the whole ordeal.

Surprisingly, Cato wasn't the first to rise to the bait.

"You." it was Marvel, seething an angry steam. He took a step closer and Katniss merely smiled back at him. Her heart was pounding hard against her chest and it almost hurt to think about anything else. But she showed them a rock, similar to the one the late Foxface had held onto.

"Maybe even teach you guys a thing or two about sharing..." Katniss tried to copy the same sly grin that Foxface had, but the muscles in her mouth protested, and instead, she grimaced. Noting that the District One boy was slowly edging closer to her, Katniss finally threw the rock at a large pack Foxface had avoided. Although, unexpectedly, nothing occurred.

Cato jeered out a laugh as Marvel stretched his arm back – ready to make the throw with his spear.

Panicking, Katniss looked around the ground before her but found no rocks at hand. Cursing, she glanced up in time to see a spear soaring through the air. Rolling over to her side, Katniss dodged the weapon and awarded its owner with a wink. But then, the time for having fun had run out. She put both hands on the spear's shaft and tried to pull it out of the trunk, but despite all her attempts, her strenght wasn't enough. Ditching the damned thing, she jumped back into the cover of the trees and almost tripped over when she caught sight of the pebble. It was small, but it would have to do.

Taking one last risk, Katniss stepped out to see Marvel taking out another one of his spears before she threw the pebble. X marked out the spot and before she knew it, she was being blown back by the mass explosion.

_Ughhhh..._Katniss groaned in pain as she curled over to her side and crunched up into a ball. Her body ached and there was a loud ringing in her ear. Her head ached with much intentsity, but Katniss managed to force herself up. She leaned against a tree, feeling its coarse bark throughout the extensiveness numbness her body had entered after the pain. It felt good, welcomed – but her ear was still bothering her.

"...to!"

Katniss's eyes sprawled to the size of the moon as she heard Clove's distinctive voice nearby. Ignoring the ringing in her ear and the ache in her joints, Katniss flew into a run towards her and Rue's rendezvous. Simultaneously, she whistled out their special tune and paid apt attention to a reply. But sounds were becoming hard to decipher – one of her ear's were going deaf, and with black dots eating at her vision, Katniss had to exert more energy on discerning the pathway before her. Trees were molding with the ground and vice versa, that it was only by pure luck that she had managed to get far without drawing unwanted audiences to her clumsiness.

Then suddenly, the mockingjays began to repeat shrill notes. Katniss stopped running to listen to them closely. The mockingjays were never supposed to repeat that tone. It sounded so horrifying, high, and...Katniss began to wonder if it was either them or the leftover poison trapped within her blood. Those weren't normal tunes...

They were a young girl's scream.

Bursting into a run again, Katniss finally stumbled into a small clearing before being forced to step back. Squinting at the open blue sky, she saw a hovercraft apathetically lifting up a tiny, fragile body into its stomach. Dark hair and skin made it an easy guess as to who it was, but the hoarse scream that left Katniss's lips meant that it was too much to take in.

_Boom!_

Rue's cannon.

Katniss fell to her knees as uncontrollable sobs raked over her body. She cried because she couldn't save Rue. She cried because she wasn't there to protect her. She cried because she was too selfish, too ravenous for revenge on the Careers. But most of all, she cried because she couldn't even be there to say goodbye or sorry to her.

Once again, Katniss Everdeen was alone in the Games.

"Aw, what's wrong? _Rue_ful about her death?" The wind was knocked out of her lungs as a boot met Katniss's stomach. Falling on her back, Katniss furiously wiped away her blurry vision as she propped herself up with her elbows. It was Clove cackling at her joke with Cato ever-so grinning behind her.

"That's what you get," Clove said, quickly sobering up. "For blowing up our supplies. You know, I imagined karma to be dealt out fairly, but obviously – that tiny girl doesn't even add up to the importance of the food you blew up." she frowned as she picked up a dagger of hers. Her pointer finger accidentally pressed to hard on the tip and bled...Clove hardly reacted to it.

"So you're going to kill me too, right?" Katniss scowled as she finally pushed herself up to her feet and stretched out to her full height. If she had to go down, she would do it with her pride still in tact. She wouldn't bend to her killer's will of pleading for death, yelling out in pain. She'd die her way.

"Slowly and painfully, Twelve." Clove spat out. "I'll make sure that even your _family _won't recognize your face when I'm done." and that was what made Katniss crack.

Suddenly, she was back in her house, fixing Prim's blouse and assuring her that she wouldn't be picked out for the Games. There would be the smell of herbs and goat milk wafting in from the kitchen, the paint barren walls glowing against the dull sunlight. Her catches of the day would be all piled up on the tables like trophies too precious to be eaten. Then Gale's words would creep into her head, the promises he'd offer, the frustration he'd vent out – all of it, as in every single word  
>he would say, would be forever imprinted in her head.<p>

And suddenly, she just couldn't imagine a more lonelier place in Panem. Katniss couldn't dream for her life about a house bare of life and full of walking skeletons. She couldn't comprehend the future of another ghost-like mother and a starving Prim. She couldn't see her family living past a month without her supply of hunted food and a life without Gale's assuring presence. No, she couldn't see any of that.

"You fighting back, Twelve?!" Clove shouted, wrestling Katniss on the ground. The two girls rolled around on the leaf-laden floor as they fought for dominance. Katniss had Clove's wrists tightly bound inside her grasp and was trying to protect herself from the endless blows she was receiving from the destructive girl's feet. Meanwhile, Clove was growing undeniably impatient as she rolled up her legs into her body once more and released a full kick into Katniss's stomach.

The girl recoiled back on the ground in a heap of pain as she clutched at her bruising abdomen. She cursed the girl that was Clove Syazel as she moved away from her knives. Getting up into a crouch, Katniss swept her leg behind Clove's knees and the girl fell over on her stomach. She narrowly missed her knives planted on the ground, but Katniss didn't care.

Instead, she placed all her body weight over Clove's flattened body and pulled at her hair; the girl shouted as she struggled from beneath her hold.

"You sure you don't need my help, Clove?" came Cato's voice.

Katniss's body went rigid at the probability of him interfering at anytime, but was quickly calmed as Clove told Cato to back away from her fight. Yet still, she knew that the odds were still against her favor.

Making sure that the Career beneath her was still firmly on the ground, Katniss took out one of the knives out of the dirt and with a deep breath, shot it at Cato. The hulking tribute backed away from its line of attack, but it was enough and soon – Katniss was flying out into the wilderness.

She bated no breath back as she ran past the trees and scaled up a considerably large one. In the days before all this chaos, Rue had given her advice on how to "fly" from tree to tree. Recalling all of her words back, Katniss put the heart ache it came with at bay as she started a sure yet steady pace of jumping from tree to tree. Once, she spotted Cato and Clove searching for her , but even then, the distance was considerable, and that night, she spent it alone in a tree again.

Although there was no burning wound pestering her this time, Katniss was still struggling to cope with Rue's death. It all happened so quickly and...Katniss felt pinpricks of teardrops fall onto her hands. She angrily rubbed at them and rested her head on her knees.

The anthem began to play and soon, bright colors painted the dark, empty sky.

Katniss didn't want to see Rue's face up there, but she forced herself to watch and observe.

First, it was District Ten's boy with the bad leg. Apparently, he was the one that died earlier and then...Katniss found herself holding tightly onto the branch in fear of falling. Could it be?

It was.

District One was dead.

Then, Foxface's red hair blurred through her killer's face, and soon, it was her face staring down at her – tormenting her – questioning her morality. Katniss looked away until a new face decorated the sky.

This time, she was all too familiar with who it was.

Rue.

Poor, tiny, hopeful Rue.

So young...

Katniss slammed her fist against the bark of the tree. Pain scorched her knuckles, and warm blood began to trickle down her arm as she continuously vented out her anger, but they were all ignored. She would avenge Rue, that was final. It was only a matter of time before Katniss made her next kill, and after that...it would all be over soon. When she won, Katniss swore to award Rue's district and family in whatever way possible.

The anthem came back on, and soon – that too disappeared.

There were six of them left...


	10. Chapter 10

**Author's Note - THG is not mine, but I do own a piece of pen and paper.**

_And wow, has it not gotten me far._ _It looks like I should have more blackouts...or not. Preferabbly not. I died without my internet. Anyway, here's to a comeback after going MIA for a while. Rest assured, we're getting closer and closer to the end of the games, and after that - the story. Another heads up is that I'll probably try to finish this before Christmas or before the second week of December if possible; reason is cause I got new video games coming in soon - and of course, I _have to _write about them. That's all, thanks for reading so far!_

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><p>The days that passed could be described as uneventful as leaves falling to the ground. Such a boredom had cascaded down on all the audiences, that even the tributes knew that the next few precious hours they could steal for themselves, would have to count. With the casualty number being so great since the denotation of the Careers' food supply, they were lucky enough for the Gamemakers to have allowed them such a long time to recuperate. Some just wished it could have been longer.<p>

Among these few survivors was Katniss Everdeen. She had cloaked herself with a blanket full of grieving since the death of Rue; every movement mechanical, every care erased. Katniss ripped the meat off the bone of her Rabbit's haunch, and quickly realized that the careless anger she had deposited a few days ago as foolish as sticking her head into a trap. Sighing, she began to remember why she had bothered to live so far and long; remembered the days spent in summer's warm green...Wiping her mouth and chugging the last contents of her bottle, Katniss pushed herself off the ground and stomped out the remnants of her fires from nights ago. Realization had finally settled in on her, and she quickly went to work on admonishing herself for being so reckless the other day. In what position was she to have stomped in the woods, yelling and screaming at her opponents to come down and challenge her? None.

So with a guilty heart, Katniss walked back to her tree and packed up what little she owned. Thinking back on the days, she wondered if she could push her blessing a little further, and linger one more night in the familiar branches she had slept on; but, logic had its claim on her head again, and Katniss knew not to yearn any further. It was best she moved on quickly and silently before more temptations filled her head. Casting one last look around the evergreen clearing, Katniss found herself witnessing a happier scenery.

There. By the small creek, was Rue attending to her burns. Handmade oitment ever so cooling, Katniss watched in a trance-like motion as Rue looked up at her. With big brown eyes all too trustful for the world they lived in, Rue's lips moved and asked her if she was alright. Her, who wasn't even there to save her life nor even whisper a goodbye. Katniss closed her eyes and defiantly began a steady walk away from the clearing. In her mind, dangerous thoughts began to lurk away from their shadows and expose themselves as the monster that harbored them. In her mind, Katniss saw herself killing Rue. For what had she truly done in the end for the girl? Had she not nourished her with meals overflowing, and offered nights under a serenading moon? Had she not done what the Capitol had done? Had she not just cast an illusion over Rue and led her unprepared for a fight in the end? Although some may have argued with Katniss's outlook, the girl herself knew that her actions were beyond honorable or kind; they were horrid and disgusting. She just stuffed a pig up before slaughter. She had put a fake sense of security in Rue just in time for her to be murdered. Shaking her head, Katniss forced herself to keep these thoughts at bay as she trekked through the maze-like territory.

Through the sheer lights escaping past the thick foliage of branches, Katniss finally spotted what could only be the tracks of a groosling. Hearing her stomach rumble, Katniss knew what had to be done. For while her old persona of a huntress began melting back into her system, she knew that her prey for the days to come would only be meager and self-filling. Quietly escalating a tree's branches, Katniss tied her pack to the farthest one before landing silently back on the ground. Unsheathing her dagger, Katniss began to follow the tracks of her prey. And to luck's grand sight, a flock of food lay in her sight...

By mid-sunset's light, Katniss had a new fire built. Every few seconds she would turn the groosling on her stick for cooking and wondered when Cato and the other Career would show their face. Next to her pack on the ground lay three other burnt birds waiting to be eaten along with a new bottle of fresh and treated water. Seconds elapsed into moments, and before she knew it, daylight was darkening and still, no Careers had shown up.

Katniss sighed at this revelation as she finally pulled her meal away from the hearth and munched on its thick skin. Undoubtedly, the audience was growing restless - maybe even worse. So why had the Gamemakers done nothing to push her targets closer to her? Why was she still alone by her fire? Kicking dirt over the roaring embers, Katniss put her meal aside as she wrapped up her other catches and stuffed them in her bag. Casually pushing the pack aside, Katniss once again grabbed her meal on a stick and laid down on the ground. At once, her thoughts fell into a rhythm as they wondered about the Careers and their well-being.

But before malicious thoughts could sprout in her head, Katniss found her ears unmistakably listening to a shower of trumpets. At their last note, a loud voice spoke and was quickly recognized to be Claudius Templesmith's. Announcements like these weren't unusual, but they weren't common either. As Katniss began absorbing every word of his into her brain, she found that her focus and actions were harder to control as her fantasies betrayed her Logic. As the newest update came to a close, Katniss screamed out Peeta's name. Game changes like these were definitely occurred once in a lifetime.

"Cato..."

Those bright eyes had never seemed so dark until now. As they stood at a stalemate, Clove could finally understand what Cato's victims and opponents back in the Academy meant. Predatory, controlling...Clove was surprised that she hadn't seen what they had before. But then...Clove shook her head. She couldn't afford ridiculing herself with empty thoughts of favoring. Cato was a machine. He couldn't care if he wanted to; twisting the dagger in her hands, Clove allowed herself one more chance before charging at him with the reaper by her side.

"Both of us can go home now, Cato." She said gently, as if speaking to a child.

Cato frowned, her tone not lost on him. After days of loneliness and nights spent with one eye open, Cato had finally took the time to see the seeds of mistrust blossom into its treacherous flower. He would try, he finally concluded. He'd try for the sake of winning the favors of his sponsors and the crowd. Besides, it wasn't like he had a choice in the matter, and other than that, he had a deal to keep faithful to.

"We'll start with Thresh first thing in the morning." He said, leaving no space for opposition. He picked up the discarded sword off the ground and lodged it into the tree bark just above his head. If he had to worry about Clove trying to get to him tonight, at least he could take solace in the fact that it wouldn't be his weapon trying to purge him from the games.

Heaving out a heavy sigh, he watched through squinted eyes as Clove settled into her own spot for the night. Curled up into a ball with her back against a tree, she hugged one dagger to her chest before she allowed sleep to swallow her. Even breaths came out, and as the silver tails of moon's first appearance coveted her body in a sheet of light, Cato couldn't help but compare her to a peaceful, quiet babe. Innocence was not easy to come by among the rowdy groups of Academy trainees, but when one did see such an alter ego play on one student, it became hard for Cato to ignore them. There was just that slight inkling of serenity that they held that made Cato strike a frightening resemblance to them and his mother.

But thoughts of home would not save him today and as sleep continued to elude his grasp, Cato swung an arm up on the nearest branch and with all his might, pulled his body over the thick wood. He'd take first watch and maybe second, he decided.

Then, when morning came again, it was less welcomed than it was before. Katniss had hardly gotten any sleep as she had wasted the night tossing and turning in fear and anticipation. But now, as she groggily packed up, she began to regret her restless hours spent on pondering about Peeta's whereabouts. Taking up a leg of a groosling, Katniss skipped the menial task of covering her tracks and began tracing a path back to where she last saw Peeta. It was tough though. Pushing through thick branches and stepping over giant rocks; by afternoon, the sun had begun to unnaturally beat down on her skin with a warmth that was less than appreciated. Shrugging off her jacket, Katniss tied the clothing around her waist as she tried to ignore the way her shirt stuck to her back and the insects that swarmed around her head. But the latter was more persistent, and twice, Katniss found herself stopping just to swat at the filthy things.

"The..!"

Katniss paused mid-sentence as her foot hovered over a familiar bow. Picking up the two pieces of shining steel, a burning hatred seeped into Katniss' heart as her fingers gently glided over the broken material; at once, she began cursing Cato with every vulgar word she could think of in her head. ㈶5 She couldn't believe that he had really snapped her weapon to victory right into two pieces. Dropping it as if it scalded her hands, Katniss began searching for signs that could lead to Peeta's location. Broken twigs littered the ground, but nothing except for dried blood could indicate that there had ever been anyone else around the tree. Sighing, Katniss pulled out her bottle to quench her parched throat. If she could just find him...

The annoying buzz of a nat disrupted her thoughts and caused a disarray of feelings to come forth. Glaring at the despicable thing, Katniss finally smashed it with her bare hands and flicked its dead body off to a random side. Or so she thought. Squinting, Katniss saw that with a closer inspection, a small parting had been forced between that particular crowd of bushes. Hurriedly getting to her feet, Katniss continued her expedition and found more traces of Peeta. Hanging loosely from one branch was a fabric of his pants, smudged on a rock was his blood. Peeta was definitely close, but as she stepped into a small marshy area, she found that his clues had dispersed. Frowning, Katniss looked at every bushel and puddle of water to try and discern another anomaly in nature. "Peeta, where are you?" She mumbled to herself. Stepping closer and closer to the water, she looked to see if he had left a sign in there, but not even a fish swam in the region to show any disruption the small lake had experienced.

"Hey Dollface, how 'bout a smile?" Katniss's head whipped down, and for a moment, she wondered if she had given herself a whiplash. Although the care for that left quickly, her eyes strained themselves as they blindly scanned over the ground around her. "Peeta?" She called out.

A hue of blue eyes opened among the mixture of mud and dirt. Accompanied by them was a dazzling smile, though weak, yet still as sincere as the ones he gave her from before. "Should keep it down, Dollface," visibly, the whole floor to the right of Katniss's feet cringed; a dark entity flashed behind those bright eyes, and before he spoke again, a chorus-long cough exploded from his mouth. "I've felt worse." Peeta assured Katniss. Again, he had to smile at her color of concern before grimacing once more. Katniss shook her head and crouched down. Slowly, she began to dig him out.

"Ah," Peeta flinched as Katniss's hands brushed upon his gaping wound. "No need to do that,love." He easily raised his dirt-covered hand and used it to hold hers.

"Why...what happened to you, Peeta?" Katniss asked, looking at his body up and down- or at least, what she thought was his body. Gulping at the unseen injuries, Katniss wondered just how much pain Peeta had suffered through for the past days. Wondered why no one had even sent him down anything to help him along.

"Cato got to me, but that's not what matters right now." His eyes flickered over to the side. "You have to leave. Now." Peeta ordered, pushing past his pain so he could support his upper body with his elbows. But just as he saw Katniss try to approach, maybe even try to dissuade such as idea of abandoning him again, he shook his head. "It's all a trap, Katniss. District Four? Remember her?" He watched as a blank expression developed over his partner's face; he gave out a quiet, dry laugh with no real humor attached to it. "Yeah, no one really does, but this is her territory. She's the reason why I'm still alive. She's using me as bait, Katniss."

"For who? Peeta, I-"

"You!" Hissed Peeta. His eyes began to go crazed now, darting side to side, in and out of reality. Mustering what little strength he had stored, he tugged at the hem of Katniss's shirt as he reinforced her to move. Get out.

Unfortunately, talking sense to her was like talking to a bull. And although he would have fancied this notion, he just couldn't right now. "Katniss, stop being so stubborn and leave me." He said.

Shaking her head, Katniss hooked one arm under Peeta's elbows and used the other one to search for his legs. "No, not without you."

"Katniss..!"

A crunch of a dying twig under a heavy boot caused silence to filter among the bickering two. The crickets who were once present, instinctively vacated the area as more footsteps echoed in their ears. Quickly, Peeta began fending off Katniss's renewed effort of lifting him up and pushed her away. Dangerously, her eyes sparked at him as she landed on a patch of grass. " Go." Peeta hissed, ignoring her anger. He didn't bother to giver her another look as he too, fled in his artwork of camouflage. Torn between the safety of trees and the temptation of brining one more Career down, Katniss knew that even though the call for blood was what she wanted - what they wanted, that she wouldn't be able to deliver. Scrambling up to her feet, she darted for the coverage of the trees without one last glance at Peeta.

All was silent for the passing minute, but as soon as the blond hair jutted out of the pattern of green, it seemed as if a new kind of silence had swallowed the marsh. Air too thick too breathe, all breaths were held in as the newest danger casually sauntered down her own path. The girl, no older than Katniss, strutted with a stride that was far more sophisticated and amiable than Glimmer's. How those placid eyes and cherubic face escaped the heart of the cameras was beyond Katniss as she watched District Four stretch out a long, tanned arm towards Peeta's face. Having had little time to hide some place farther, Katniss could literally smell the earthy aroma emitting from her; this girl hardly looked like she perished underneath the intensity of the games.

" She come yet, Mellark? Has your princess found you?" Wiping the mud on her fingers on her pants, she stood her full height again and looked about. She paused a second too long at Katniss's side, but the relief that flooded her was quickly accepted as the girl turned around. "Someone's been here, that I know. It's only a matter of time I find out who they are. So if you want to lend a hand.." District Four nodded her head at Peeta's loathing eyes.

"She won't come." He spat out.

"...And maybe she might. Either way, I'll still make sure she gets to see a piece of you before she dies," she paused and grabbed a carefully hidden pack from the water. From it, a long three-pointed weapon protruded from its opening. A trident. "I'm going fishing." She announced nonchalantly.

And just as quickly as she had one, she had disappeared. Grabbing the most opportune moment to swing down from her perch, Katniss wasted no time in hurrying to Peeta's side. Trying to get him up again, Katniss was met with dead weight as she clenched her teeth from cursing at him. The girl had a trident. A very pointy trident. And while Katniss had no qualms about her ability with it, she began to question how many Peeta had. "Come on! Before she comes back!" Katniss furiously fought with her voice as she tried to remain quiet.

Peeta sighed and shrugged her hands off of him. Pushing himself back up, he prepared to open his mouth and begin another long tirade of why he could not join her. It was futile, and despite what he had on for show, his endurance to the pain was quickly diminshing. "Katniss," he shook his head as he forced himself to sit up - the girl was still digging his legs free. "Katniss!" he shouted, grasping her cheeks with his hand.

Time seemed to freeze as both their eyes clashed with each other. What frenzied panic swam in Katniss's quickly faded away by Peeta's grounded look. "Peeta," her voice cracked. "You just can't give up. I can still get us out of this," Katniss broke away from his gaze and stared at her own dirty hands. "_We_ can still win."

"Dollface, you know it as much as I know it too."

Katniss shook her head, refusing to believe or refusing to understand - it all didn't matter at that point. She tried to part her lips and speak out, but what came out were her dry sobs. The hands never left her body as they found a way to wound them around her trembling form. Peeta was hot, his skin feverish against hers, and Katniss furiously rubbed at her eyes. Although no tears came, she could feel her eyes burning for release.

"You did good, Katniss."

After mindless hours of walking through the campsite, Cato and Clove had yet to discover any clue as to where Katniss had fled to. Their original plan was to pursue the hulking tribute of District Eleven, but Cato was the one to call his own plan out and decide to put their big target off to the side for one. But now, as they rummaged through the remains of Katniss's old camp, the boy began to regret his own decision. It was clear that chasing after her would take longer than going after Thresh, and if they wanted to risk it, they could continue doing so, but not without paranoia for the Gamemakers. It had been a while since blood was spilled, and they were sure the whole audience was breathing down their necks, anticipating for the next kill to come from them.

_Hell, _Cato thought. He knew that it could only come from them.

**Boom!  
><strong>

Whizzing around, both Careers faced each other for security. Seeing that the other was alive and unharmed, they began to look off at the sky for a sign of where the death could have taken place. Minutes passed and soon, a hovercraft noiselessly flew past them and into the deeper roots of the forest. Clove let out a breath as she turned to Cato. "Should we follow it?" she asked, gesturing a hand to the useless campsite they had found.

But just as he was about to answer, a horrible, estranged scream echoed through the arena before silence came swooping down on them again. Expecting another cannon to go off, Cato waited a few moments before he spoke. He nodded his head at Clove.

"Let's go."


	11. Chapter 11

**Author's Note:** _Hopes in mercy of the readers that this is acceptable...xxx Anyway, um...yeah...With the torment of the overhanging gloom of academic priorties and what-not...I kinda forced myself to get this out. So hopefully, it still somewhat lives up to everybody's expectations...And worry not, Peeta remains alive...for the time being._

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><p>There was a permeable peace that had settled among them that night. Whether it was due to the unwarranted presence of a killer or just because they were in dire need of rest, no one was quite sure. For the botched rescue, Katniss could quickly agree to herself that the estranged silence couldn't have been worst. But alas, quelling the sickness settling in her stomach, was really the only task she could try to conquer now – the gluttonous temptress being her enemy for the night. With the wafting scent of fresh, roasting fish being her seducing perfume, the job was easier said than done.<p>

Trying to focus on something else, she found that below her tree, Peeta's labored breaths were enough to pull her attention elsewhere. Chancing a look down, Katniss fought off the nausea that was swelling up inside her as she caught sight of his fatal wound. _Oh, Peeta..._

Even by the sight of it, the most oblivious fool could conclude that Peeta was barely living now. Wherever he hung, at night's comely door or by death's persnickety hearth, it was hardly a question of whether he would survive, but when he would die. Yet he was still fighting, and that was all she could ask from him.

Fighting for her? Katniss didn't know nor care. Peeta could be trembling away from death just for the pure suspense and anguish it caused her and she wouldn't have minded. Where she couldn't save Rue, she'd die trying for him.

"_Cold, Peeta? Need a hug?" _the icy voice was nothing but a cool reminder that her fight was closer than she desired.

Behind those heavy-lidded eyes, blue irises peeked out of their sockets as they looked over at the siren of District Four. He would have been damned by her beauty if not for the fact that it was already dulled and shaded by the frightening change in her demeanor. Where she had been sane not a few days ago, he'd watch her crumble and cautiously teeter on the border of insanity.

Suddenly, the warm light glowing against her peach skin turned against her favor as he watched her pull something out of her pack; Peeta held his breath as the putrid stench of a rotting corpse hit the air. What he mistook as a bloody rag became an arm attached to half of a boy's torso with its other hand mangled into a disproportionate sight.

"Catch."

He tried not to cringe. Honestly, he tried to fight off the disgust but it became all too much as the bone of the spine poked his wounded leg and he threw up. A brown liquid pushed past his lips as the nutrient-lacking puke splattered all over the back of the torso and spilled onto his own legs. Deafened by the buzzing in his ears, he could barely make out the alienated laughter that punctured the air.

With a final grunt, Peeta pushed the corpse off of him and glared at the jolly girl. "You're sick." he spat.

District Four shot him a lopsided grin, "I try."

. . .

It was well into the night when Katniss finally stirred the slumbering Peeta. But with his quick yet forgiving sluggish response, Katniss knew that sleep too, had eluded him. Quickly shrugging his protest away, she gingerly lifted his arm and slid it across her shoulders. Peeta was deadweight in his current predicament, but the girl who held him now was more than willing to carry all his burdens and maybe steal some for herself.

Tiptoeing in between the shards of glinting glass, the broken pieces of mirror became more of a search light, like a distraught mother looking for her lost children. Only, Katniss and Peeta weren't related and home was about as far as the moon itself.

Catching sight of a favored hiding place. Katniss blindly led Peeta in a canopy of branches and twisted them in a way that would serve them as a makeshift shelter. Around this hour, the sun was slowly rising up and lost sleep was what it was. Unconsciously, Peeta decided to catch up to it and had slipped into the haziness of his mind and fell into a deep slumber; Katniss was left to fend off their fort.

Grabbing a plump twig, Katniss began chipping off its edges and shaped it into a decent stake. Not once in her muddled thoughts did she think about the scream she had heard earlier, not once had she stopped producing those nature-made knives. For what lay ahead of them was more important in what they had left behind...

"_Kat..niss?"_

The name was almost a breeze itself, but she heard it. Looking behind her, Katniss saw Peeta struggling to sit up. She shook her head and pushed him back down. "Go back to sleep, Peeta."

She watched as his weak body obeyed to her orders yet his blue eyes still forced themselves open and strained in eagerness to bring some sort of comfort to her rigid posture. "Water?" he croaked.

Katniss sighed and automatically let her fingers brush over her bottle. Holding it up, she found the container to be too light and immediately regretted drinking up all of its contents last night. Both their stomachs suddenly growled and she grew more ashamed by the minute.

"I...left my pack back there." she admitted, running a hand over her shirt. Such a mess it was, but with her jacket clinging tightly to the Peeta's open wound, she didn't think much of appearances anymore. Irony only had it that she enjoyed the little bits of luxurious apparel she had worn back in the Capitol.

"I won't let you go back." Peeta said sternly, his gaze hardening.

"And I won't leave you." Katniss replied.

Peeta smiled in succession as he finally pushed himself up. Tiny green faeries tickled his palms as they swayed to the gentle wind. "Guess we have to go back together then."

Katniss knew it had been a bad idea ever since she agreed to let him come along. Every twig and leaf that met its demise because of Peeta's heavy footfalls caused her to flinch. In the hazardous maze of trees she found no comfort in the returning silence as they would rest. No matter that they were safe – anyone could be silently stalking their every move. Brushing a strand of hair out of her face, Katniss let out a breath as she glanced over at Peeta's stature; he was bent over, stealing whatever air he could into his lungs.

Frowning, Katniss decided to try one more time with his stubbornness. "Peeta..."

Those blue eyes were impermeable. They quickly sized down into a narrow gaze as he shook his head. Even his golden locks were losing their glowing luster now, but as the rest of him seemed to be dying – his determination failed to succumb along with it.

Someone whistled a few paces ahead of them.

Eyes widening, both District Twelve tributes dove for the nearest coverage and found a thick bushel of green to separate them from the newcomer. Fumbling with the stakes latched around her person, Katniss handed one over to Peeta as she peered past the foliage of leaves; it was four.

Cursing their luck, Katniss flashed Peeta four fingers as her other hand hovered over her own stake. There was no getting around their situation now. Staring at were they once were, she saw too many disturbances in the nature that gave away their position. Sitting things out and waiting for their enemy to pass was a fantasy they couldn't desire.

By the time Katniss settled on her decision, the melodious tune had stopped and was replaced by mutterings. Her eyes looked over to the clearing and saw that the girl had paused in her tracks and was glancing around the scenery. Two seconds passed, and her breath hitched as she saw her stormy eyes glanced over at their direction. They seemed to be prying – searching, and once Katniss made the motion to skid her foot back an inch, she soon found the reason why. Behind them lay an intricate trap – a net.

"_She gone..?"_ Peeta whispered, moving closer to the wall of bushes. Katniss was about to reprimand him for speaking when he had taken the mistake her foot almost did. With a sudden hiss of rope, Peeta was suddenly snared into a thick, suffocating net.

"Well.." District Four's sentence was never finished. Jumping out of her camouflage, Katniss pounced on the girl like a crazed animal. Her morals evaporated as she plunged the wooden point of her stake into Four's stomach.

To her victim's credit, she uttered no scream but cringed as the wood sunk deeper into abdomen. "You." she spat out, enclosing her hands around the wooden handle. She kept the weapon firmly in her body as Katniss tried to pull away from her grasp on it. Sadly, Four was still beyond her skill as she had some sort of prior training to the Games and had the strength to keep Katniss in place.

"I knew Peeta would eventually lead you to me." she spoke, quickly curling her own legs around Katniss's. The caught girl gasped as she found one of her legs hook behind her knees and cause her an unsteady waver which Four used to flip their positions over.

Warm blood splattered over Katniss's face as the girl coughed out blood and pulled the stake from her stomach. Grimacing, Four threw away the stake and used her enemy's shock to her advantage. Pulling her arm back, she struck Katniss's cheek with an paramount force that for a good minute – knocked Katniss's thinking into a blank; four continually did this and soon, black and blue spots littered Katniss's face.

"Hmph." Stopping her combo of punches, Four sat up, straddling Katniss, and reached for the knife in her boot. Sliding it out, she traced a long cut along Katniss's jawline and was pleased to see an angry red line appear before her fatal paintbrush.

"Katniss!" Peeta shouted.

"Shut up!" hollered Four. She flipped her tangled hair behind her and pointed the knife at him. "You can have your turn once I'm finished reconstructing your precious love's face!" she yelled, driving the knife across her cheek.

Warranted insults threatened to pour out of Peeta's lips, but he kept his mouth firmly shut as he forced himself to endure the treachery before him. He wanted to help – he had to, but in his position...Suddenly, Peeta remembered the stake Katniss had given him and spotted it below him. Stretching his arm out of the net, his fingers brushed over the cold wood as he strained his reach to grow longer.

Closer and closer, his fingers got but by the time they got a good grip on the weapon, Katniss was barely conscious from her beating. _Come on..._he thought, sawing through the thick rope. He prayed as he tried to break himself free, but to no avail, he saw that it would take too much time to cut through that much rope. Scowling, he looked above him and saw one thick bundle holding everything together. With an idea formed in his head, Peeta expended the rest of his energy hauling his bulky body up and sawing through the knot above him.

"_Ughnnn..."_

_Hold on..._And with one last slice, Peeta was falling to the ground. The wind was momentarily knocked out of him, but it did little to hinder Peeta's efforts. He rose from the ground with a new vigor as he pulled himself closer to Four, and as soon as he was within a three feet radius of her, he saw the cold eyes and knew that if he had not gotten out sooner, he wouldn't be there right now tackling her away from the finishing blow.

"Get off!" she screeched, clawing at Peeta's face. Trying to keep a good space between them, he turned his head to look at Katniss and shouted at her to wake up, make the kill, and run off with him.

"Huh," Four rolled her eyes. "She's unconscious you idiot." she said bluntly. Peeta ignored her as his eyes frantically searched for any sign of coming to be from Katniss. His arms were tiring and soon, his escape would only be in vain.

He closed his eyes and muttered a quiet apology as he, as gently as he could, kicked her side. Luckily, he had kicked a tender region as the pressure on her resting wound jerked to life and resurrected her from her sleep. Shooting up, Katniss's eyes were wide and wild as she took a moment to digest everything in.

Pain shot up around her face as her whole head ached, but once she saw Peeta's uncomprimising position, she came into life and got up. Grabbing her stake, she nudged Peeta away before digging the stake into Four's chest in the nick of time.

The tanned arms died in mid-action and fell to the wood protruding from her breast. Eyes wide, they glazed over to Katniss before fainting from reality. A loud bang raged overhead as the two survivors fell to the side.


	12. Chapter 12

**Author's Note:** _So this unpredictably dragged out way past my planned date. Oh well, technical difficulties and school stood up against me paired with the death of a laptop and a replacement of a new one and what-not. So here is the latest chapter. I'm just happy that we're finally progressing towards the end. There should be two more Game-centric chapters before we head off into the finishing ceremony and from there, probably a sort-of AU-centric time lapse for Katniss and Cato to explore their...predicament together. _

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><p>They were trembling as the acidic rain poured from all corners of the arena. It leaked into their hideout, into their souls...Burned their skin, their thoughts, their sanity...Despite the comfort of having each other, not even the warmth and camaraderie that once emulated between them could keep a fire of safety raging to ward off the doubts that crept around them in the darkness. Again, the sense of fighting to live had escaped their grasp as they huddled together in a mass of worry and weakness. They could do nothing to survive but hope that they outlasted the sickness long enough to see a new sunrise come.<p>

Peeta was being especially strange for the past day. Having lent a hand in the killing of a fellow tribute, his persistence had wavered and logic had long ago left his mind. He held Katniss's hand like a lost child, but like a child, he was also stubborn enough to never let go in fear.

Crowded into a corner of the cave, Katniss was smothered. She couldn't breathe in their position as she tried to sort out her thoughts. Only leaving the cave to gather berries and check on traps, a rash began to spread through her entity as she itched to get out there and finish it all. For Peeta. For her. But the former was the exact reason as to why she couldn't do anything. Yet she had to.

"Katniss, did you ever see that tiny girl again...?" Peeta whispered, rubbing his fingers over her knuckles. The friction between their skin should have caused some sort of warmth, maybe even a tiny spark – but alas, they were both too cold and numb to feel or emit anything.

Swallowing a huge lump in her throat, Katniss nodded. "Yeah."

"Did you know.."

"I was there."

"She deserved better."

_I know..._

"Thank you...by the way." Katniss spoke, swaying their topic. Peeta might have squeezed her hand, but she would never know. Too detached to feel, she only heard his hollow response before subsiding into a semi-conscious state.

When she awoke again, she felt hot. Katniss's head rose from Peeta's shoulder as she looked over at her partner. He was sleeping but there was an eerie aura about his peaceful expression. Pressing a pale hand to his forehead, she realized he was burning up too much. Snapping her hand away, Katniss quickly dug herself out of their position and dug through her backpack. She found no medicine and her panic rose even more. She couldn't lose Peeta. She couldn't.

"Oh, Haymitch, if you can hear me, please." she murmured, looking through the cracks of their cave. A steady silver stream of dreamless water filtered into their darkness as she looked up. If the cameras could dissect their way through the darkness, they might have been able to catch the trembling tears in her eyes, but as minutes passed by, she knew that her prayer would be unanswered.

Furiously rubbing her eyes, Katniss fumbled her way back to Peeta and felt his face again. This time, she didn't flinch at his heat but cherished it. If he was still scorching, he was still alive. Putting both hands to the sides of his face, she touched their foreheads together and embraced the warmness that traveled to her. She closed her eyes and pressed her lips against his chapped ones and for once, wished he was awake to finally give her that goofy smile of his that he had always boasted on his face. It was just too bad that his long awaited moment happened with him asleep.

"Please, wake up." and this time, he didn't heed to her wishes.

On other lands, their enemies too, felt the demise of hunger lying in their wake. Forcefully shoving a handful of berries into her mouth, Clove felt the need to throw it back out but kept the fruit buried in her empty stomach. The berry was sweet with a hint of bitterness that could only be noticed by those unhumble tongues of the well-off.

"We need to find food soon." Clove muttered, spitting out the stems of her meal.

Cato shrugged as his reservoir of energy seemed unharmed by the past days of exhaustion and hunger. He had these kind of empty days – heck, he had plenty of them as punishment from both home and the Academy. Grabbing his pack off the ground, he hefted the sword in his hand as if to weigh its importance. Staring at the hand holding it, he scowled as he saw the hewed gash District Eleven had marked upon him.

Surely enough, a care package had been sent down to help Clove sew him up, but the angry stitches unmasked by his torn sleeve were enough of a painful reminder about how detached he was in that moment of ambush. Glancing at Clove, he only spotted a small thin line clotted with dried blood over a miniscule wound Thresh had managed to inflict on her. Nothing but confusion fused into his already jumbled mind.

He'd let her live, but for how long would he be willing to protect her? Cato's scowl deformed into a frown as he thought back to their pact. Sure, with the game changer they could both go home – but the gut-wrenching tension in his stomach returned as he remembered how _selflessly _and _thoughtlessly_ herushed in to pull Thresh off of Clove. How he hurled the bulky tribute to the other side of the clearing with adrenaline easing Eleven's massive weight; it was so very unlike of him. Had he grown an actual attachment to her?

"Something wrong?" Clove asked, chancing an irked glance his way. She watched as Cato's fingers reached up to scratch his almost-transparent freckled nose. The way he was poised said frustration, but there seemed to be a darker depth to his thoughts hidden behind those hardened eyes.

"That girl from Four, why didn't we include her into our pact?" he replied, shoving the incessant questions in his head away. Clove's eyebrows bent as they scrunched down in thought.

"I think...we did," she paused as she caught herself from scratching a scab. "But she got separated from us when we raided the Cornucopia. Too bad too, she was pretty useful with that trident _and _a raised fisher." Clove answered.

"So she was good." Cato murmured. "Was she as strong as us?"

"Close."

"Think that Katniss girl killed her?" he shot.

Clove instantly frowned. She picked at the grassy ground with her foot. "Can't be anyone else. Thresh is always here and Lover Boy is far from alive." With trembling fists, she clearly remembered how the girl had aced a perfect score. A point higher than her and Cato, and therefore a point higher than almost anybody else.

Unbeknownst to Clove, Cato was coming to the same conclusion her mind was facing. _Just how powerful was she? _

"Katniss..?"

"Peeta!"

The relief could not have been anymore evident as she rushed to his side. Peeta was alive. Abandoning all thoughts and tasks at hand, she made sure to come to aid and help him sit up. With weary eyes, Peeta looked around and saw to his distaste the same cave.

"I was hoping it all was a dream." he muttered, giving Katniss a glimpse of the smallest of smiles.

Katniss couldn't return one as she leaned her body against the prickly wall. "I'm just glad you're awake, you had me worried." she said.

Peeta seemed to shift in his seat no matter how much energy it took for him to do so. It didn't escape the girl as his eyes profusely streaked over to her, a tattering pulse of uneasiness and uncertainty creeping into his gaze. His mouth opened and closed continuously until Katniss finally acknowledged his flighty behavior. "Yes?"

"D–did, we kiss?" he stuttered out faintly. If it weren't for the natural echo in the cave, Katniss would have misjudged his question as the prattling of falling pebbles, but she knew better. A blush that she didn't know she even had the power to dash on splattered all over her cheeks like blazing red paint; she meekly nodded her head, not realizing that such a simple kiss could bring out so much femininity from her.

"You were dying and I," Katniss shook her head. She was better than this. "I'm sorry if I overstepped a line or something." she said. Her eyes inconspicuously shied towards Peeta as an unbecoming grin settled on his face. Relief flooded her instincts as Katniss realized that this was _Peeta_. The one who professed to the world that he loved her. Katniss allowed herself a small smile as she chucked a berry at him. "Don't get too happy." she murmured.

Peeta chuckled. "Too late to say that. Say," he gave her an uncharacteristic wink. "How about another one, sweetheart?" he asked.

Katniss surprised both him and herself as she walked towards him. Kneeling down, Peeta thought she was going to yell but instead, found his lips molding in perfectly with hers. The moment went undisturbed till a rain of cruel horn-playing fell down on their ears. Breaking away, Katniss fell back against the cave wall as she tried to even out her breaths again. She could hear Peeta doing the same, but at the same time, saw from the corner of her eyes that he was straining to listen to Claudius's words. Katniss on the other hand, was indifferent to it. He was just going to invite them to another bloodbath of a feast.

"_Now hold on. Some of you may already be declining my invitation," _The said girl merely shrugged in reponse. "_But this is no ordinary feast. Each of you needs something desperately. Each of you will find a backpack marked with your district number at the Cornucopia at dawn. Think hard about refusing to show up..."_

Katniss brusquely stood up only to have Peeta reach out at her ankle. "You're not going, it's too dangerous, Katniss. I'm not letting you risk your life for me." he said.

Katniss pulled her ankle free from his hold and sat back down by his feet. "Give me some credit Peeta, I'm not going. That feast is present itself. The other three can fight it out and we'll just see who we have left tomorrow evening." she said, and for once applauded at her decency at lying.

Peeta thought otherwise. "Katniss, you're a horrible liar. I'm not letting you go." he said.

"Well I am, and you can't stop me!"

"I can follow you though."

"Peeta!" Katniss sighed exasperatedly. She saw the determination in his eyes coupled with concern and worry. She knew she was fighting a losing battle. The same as she knew that if she did leave, she would surely see Peeta fighting tooth and nail just trying to follow her. Katniss chewed at her lips as she weighed her options. "Fine," she gave in. "I won't go if you promise to eat and drink everything I give to you!" she proposed.

"I need a promise, Katniss." Peeta said, but he was relieved anyhow. He saw the defeat in her eyes and as bad as he felt for distinguishing the fire he loved to see in her – he didn't mind dousing it if it meant keeping her alive.

"Promise, now let me get today's main meal."

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Of course, all of it was a lie. Once that parachute came, delivering her a new present, Katniss knew what she had to do. Getting him to eat it was easy – sneaking out with a mountain of worries was hard.

Stepping back, Katniss apprehensively stared at her work and wondered if that would be enough to dissuade any curious eyes from prying farther into what was shown. She frowned and shoved her hands into her pockets, hunching her shoulders against an invisible biting cold, she began her silent trek to the Cornucopia. She wasn't at all worried about running into anyone. She could easily drop and run; nothing was holding her down.

Yet the nagging feeling persisted to gnaw at her stomach. She was only one person and Peeta clearly wasn't in any shape to fend off a surprise attack. Maybe if she died, she would attract less attention to him. Maybe he could outlive everyone long enough till the last two tributes fought till the death. Or maybe it was just the latent tiredness drawing her back into that impenetrable darkness. Either way, as the moon slowly forfeited its reign over them, Katniss saw herself scurrying into the dark shadows of the Cornucopia.

Surprisingly, it was clean. Spotless. No bodies. No forgotten limbs. The Capital certainly outdid themselves in cleanliness. But what did it matter? Katniss's shadowed eyes looked forth into the opening and saw a table slowly rise among the dancing blades of grass. The covers were white. So pure...

Katniss scoffed at that. It wouldn't be that pure once the others had arrived. Taking the time to muster any courage she had leftover, Katniss bolted.

She ran and ran and grabbed.

The girl never looked back once her fingers hooked around the strap of the District 12 bag. It was black like the others, but stood at a considerable size. Though Katniss didn't fret over that. The bigger the better, and whatever was in there was supposed to help them. Was supposed to help Peeta. So with all the weight tugging her speed down by a notch, Katniss didn't bother focusing on anything but getting away.

Maybe that was her mistake.

Instantaneously, a lithe figure had tackled her down and Katniss's fall wasn't at all cushioned by her pack. She groaned in pain but had enough sense to quickly roll her legs up and kick the person off of her. With Peeta's survival still standing on the line, Katniss shoved every single hindrance under a huge rock of adrenaline and swung her pack at her attacker; Clove swayed and stumbled over her own feet – her own array of leftover weapons flying a fair distance away from her.

Ego more than wounded, she taunted Katniss.

"You going to run and leave me _alive?" _she said. "You going to let me kill him just like I killed that little girl?!" she yelled.

Katniss froze in her tracks. She was just four glides away from the forest, but at the mention of Rue, locked feelings bled anew again as she recalled Rue's lifeless body drifting away from her.

Clove smirked at her reaction and slowly pushed herself off the ground. Albeit the lack of food had weakened her more than she would care to like, she had gotten what she wanted. "That's right. I killed poor, little Rue. Shame you weren't there, she screamed your name so many times. But eventually she gave up. Realized that you weren't going to risk your pathetic life for her own. By then, she just _begged _me to ki –"

"Shut up!" Katniss shouted. Beyond irked, she wheeled around just in time to see a huge hulking golem shadow over Clove's body. The girl had yet to see him, but maybe that was because her own voice was drowning his footsteps out. Whatever the case may have been, Katniss didn't dare stare any longer as Thresh slammed down a rock into the side of her face.

Unfortunately, there was no safe haven waiting for her when she arrived at her and Peeta's hideout. The rocks and leaves had been moved and Peeta wasn't inside. Instead, there was a trail of blood dragged out into a mass of bushels that Katniss had specifically told Peeta to stay away from.

An apprehending horror grabbed her with all of its claws as she slowly wandered to them; and there was Peeta – eyes closed with a handful of Nightlock invitingly laid in his palm.


	13. Chapter 13

**Author's Note:** _Finally, after the next chapter we'll be done with everything concerning the events in the arena. And food for the thought, but just because this is a Cato/Katniss story, doesn't mean they are insured to get out of the arena safely. For all we know, I could kill them, (or to be specific, one of them) in this chapter or the next one. I hope I don't cause panic, but I just want to make sure everyone is prepared for anything. Never assume what you don't know, right? Well, here it is :)_

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><p>She didn't even touch him. She just looked and ran. Not one glance back until she heard the soft buzzing of an aircraft coming to pick his body up. By then, Katniss was a good distance away from him. From <em>everyone.<em>

Heaving, Katniss focused on the black dots starting to swim in her vision. She had run so much, expended so much energy that her body was struggling to compensate for the lost of breath and calories. To even think she gained weight back in the Capital just to lose twice as much...

_Focus._ She told herself, collapsing on the ground. Katniss unwound the pack from her shoulders and threw it to the side. She titled her head up and breathed in the caressing wind as the burn and ache in her chest momentarily paused for this one moment of calmness. When Rue died, she had become numb; become a robot for her mind to command. It had helped her survive, but with Peeta being the one gone this time, she didn't know if having only her mind aware about the world was enough. Already she could feel the fatigue and sense of hopelessness swallowing her up. It was like fighting an ocean of struggling. Trashing and suffocating her body against the unknown...

If Katniss Everdeen had ever saw herself as the girl on fire, she sure wasn't one now. Extinguished by the cold waters of reality, she wasn't even a shell of her former self. She was nothing now, but she had to keep going; Prim was waiting for her and that was all she ever needed to know. All she _had _ever needed to know, actually. She just made the mistake of getting herself attached.

_Boom! _

Wearily, she raised her eyes to the skies. It was cloudless, a perfect blue. Mildly, Katniss wondered if the world after the one she lived in was watching them right now. But then, she reminded herself that she couldn't afford the luxury of thoughts. Peeta and Rue were somewhere there too, bottled in a cracked bottle, waiting for the right trigger to set them free.

Katniss ran her tongue over her cracked lips. They were dry and parched as a desert, but unlike it, she didn't have the rare rain to quench it. Hadn't she just kissed Peeta this morning with the very same lips?

Shaking her head, Katniss finally forced her body to move and grabbed the backpack now. It was supposed to contain something that would help them, Claudius had said. And so she expected it to help Peeta. But Peeta was dead, so whatever was in there would probably be useless to her. Yet the pack was just so large and heavy, she wondered how much money the Capital had wasted on him So she opened it and saw a silver contracting bow, a handful of arrows, and a small brown package smelling like freshly baked bread.

_His hunger was insatiable as his need for escape. Trapped in the arena like a caged animal, born and raised to run a world; the two contrasting predicaments were at disagreements as Cato's hand curled tighter and tighter around the hilt of his sword. Angry red marks seemed to glare at him in the midst of the darkness as his senses shaped into that of a predator. Moonbeams poured into the chapped canopies and presented undaunted shapes to the human eye; death-riddled leaves perished beneath his foot, and Cato found himself at a stalemate as a body threw itself over him. _

_Movement was squandered as Cato felt the cold metal prick his thick neck. An aptitude for stealth and murder numbed the fear rearing its head back in displeasure as it rolled off of his attacker's body in waves. But the present autumn scent was not enough to completely knock him into thoughts of oblivion. Cato's sword-arm, although injured, remained poised above the air; above his victim._

"I'll show you art._" the menace hissed, tracing out their carvings on Cato's face – the boy's heavy breathing grew dim as his other hand suddenly lurched out to grab the tiny wrist holding his reaper._

_Though the adrenaline coursing through both bodies was still strong, a booming voice forced them to pause as it hailed down the arena in a casket of trumpets. Both tributes denied their opponent freedom as they listened intently to the announcement. It was Claudius Templesmith ranting about some congratulatory speech, one that earned an eye-roll-worthy pause from Cato's attacker. Then finally, in the hush of pre-battle, the long-awaited declaration fell into the ears of all the tributes; followed by another lavish chorus of trumpets, Claudius's presence left them again._

"Clove_." the name had a bitter taste in Cato's tongue. As the moonlight curved over to their position, the two fellow district-mates saw that they had indeed clashed swords with each other by mistake...but neither of them made a move to withdraw their weapons._

"_Sorry, thought you were someone else." the girl replied casually. She pushed herself off of Cato's bulky form as he reluctantly released her wrist. Copying her actions, Cato stood up as well and dusted off the tiny particles gathered on his malignant weapon._

_None of them jumped at the thought of extending the conversation as they shifted their eyes towards some other dark horizon. They were afraid that some steep secret could push itself past their lips before it was too late to hold it back and force them to return to their paranoid selves. Although a truce had been severely created since their reaping, the weaker end of the bond wasn't willing to compensate for her end of it so quickly and meekly. Comrades or not, she wasn't planning on dying any time soon._

And maybe it was around that time that Cato began to feel cold around her. He couldn't lie that he hadn't felt some sort of camaraderie with the tiny girl, couldn't lie that he saw her something akin to friend. So when he felt her blood, her _life_, seeping through his fingers, all he desired in return was to spill some more blood onto the arena.

And maybe that's why he was staring at District Eleven's carcass. He had hovered over the body for a good five minutes now, and was certain that was the longest he would dare push his luck with the Capital's patience. Grabbing his respective pack, he took the mesh-like garment out of it and left his work alone. Yet he could still see Thresh's wrangled body. Hear his last labored breaths. In fact, if Cato concentrated enough, he was certain that he could even feel the boy's callous hands trying to bring him down with his last few able-bodied swipes.

But Cato was alive, and he had won once more. Mechanically slipping the protective mesh under his clothes, he walked past Clove's death site without so much of a pause. But he did feel a tug. It was small, albeit it still happened. And Cato shoved that feeling away. His eyes wouldn't dare drag themselves to the blood stained rock or grass anymore. Clove was gone, and he had nothing left but a few scratches to remind him of her.

Though later on the day, after a ravishing meal of rabbit haunch, he began to settle into the uncanny state. Not even the looming darkness forced the animals to flit past him in attempt to go home, or if they did, they made no sound about it. The winds had died down earlier in the day as well, and Cato rested too far away from a river to hear any of its prattling trickling. So silence it was for his company until the thoughts raided his mind.

Cato was never one to think much. Everything in his brain was practically broken down to survive and kill. It was pretty delusive point of view to others grown outside the Academy, because obviously you need more than that. But if they opened their minds further, they'd probably realize that their training was as good as their worldly knowledge. Sure, Cato figured he might never actually figure out how to apply the concept of linear-intercepts into science – but at least he knew enough path to calculate the perfect trajectory needed to throw things accurately. But beyond that, the Academy had taught him other things other than how to kill and basic algebra; he had learned about the history of wars, the anatomy of humans, the properties of plants...and much more. And again, even if they just helped to broaden the knowledge about survival and inspire more tactics on killing – he had learned, and thought, and questioned.

But curiosity killed the cat, didn't it?

Cato also learned that the hard way. Having an inquisitive mind, besides for the fact that he had been a child, Cato thought a lot when he was at home, especially when he was trying to persuade sleep to visit him for the night. He thought about the workings of the Capital, why things were the way they are...why his District hadn't rebelled yet. And then it all ended. His questions, his curiosity. His older brother, Calif, had snapped that all away as he was brutally whipped in front of everyone one summer festival. Ever since then, Calif hardly came home anymore.

_Yet, satisfaction brought him back to life._

He wasn't afraid of being curious anymore. So when he thought back to the pack, he recalled only seeing one mesh-body suit. None for Clove at all. Cato's hands unconsciously trembled. It definitely wasn't out of fear, but growling over the fact that they _knew_ what was going to happen angered him horribly.

The anthem suddenly played and that fueled his rage even more. Looking up, Cato managed a glimpse of Clove first before melting into Thresh...then into Peeta, and Cato shot up. Shaking even worse, he abandoned his campsite, the fire, his meal, and began searching for his last remaining victim. He didn't want the satisfaction anymore, but he did need to avenge.

When Katniss woke up, everything around her was dark. Not the night kind of dark, but the suffocating kind of dark. Choking on her breath, Katniss quickly slung the pack of arrows and bow over her head and started running across the forest. The fire must have been burning through the forest longer than when she had awoken since the smoke was everywhere! Katniss could hardly see her path, but she saw enough to know that danger wasn't the place she was headed over to. But having nothing but a few handful of berries to satisfy her hunger, she already felt defeated when she made it to the center, the Cornucopia. And what did she see?

More smoke.

Everywhere.

She wasn't even sure if this was a tribute's doing or the Capital's. Too tired to stay up to see who was leftover, Katniss didn't know if it was Cato or Thresh still alive. Maybe even Clove too, but she really couldn't care. All three were dangerous, and with nothing but a few arrows to keep them off of her – Katniss was really pressing her luck.

Hearing a sheer howl pierce the night wasn't at all helping either. Running and ignoring the burn in her lungs, Katniss threw her body onto the Cornucopia's steel sides and hung onto whatever she could. She found little crevices and edges she could slip her feet and hands into and slowly but surely, she was escalating onto higher ground; not the smartest thing to do when there was smoke threatening to pour over your area, but she had to what she could to survive. Wherever that howl came from, it came from nothing good. Katniss had never seen a wolf or dog ravage through the forest during her stay, so she was confident in thinking that it came from something the Capital had created.

So when she felt something heavily collide into the the exterior of the Cornucopia, she was torn between leaving it alone or trying to finish it off. Katniss crawled as close as she could to the edge and peered over to it only to have a set of sharp flashy jaws snap at her. With a quick intake of breath, Katniss was back to scampering away from the edge and onto the apex of the silver structure. If she could think deep enough, she would note how the site of the bloodbath was now her only haven.

"What...is that?" Katniss murmured to herself. Again, the dog-like thing smashed its body against the Cornucopia hoping to throw Katniss off, but failed. It tried again and again, running and jumping at different angles that cautioned Katniss that whatever creature it was, it had a brain, and it was using it pretty well.

Squinting her eyes, Katniss carefully unlatched the bow from her back and notched an arrow at the berserk hound. It was hard enough that it was moving, but added to the fact that the smoke was already creeping along the ground made it a more arduous task. Pulling her arm back, Katniss tried one shot only to see it harmlessly lodge into the ground beside the thing.

The hound, Katniss saw, paused from its attack to sniff at the arrow. If possible, Katniss saw its eyes conspicuously narrow at it and raised its maw to bark at her louder than before. If it was trying to intimidate or scare her, it was working. Katniss, frozen to the spot, felt her arms go lax as they dropped to her sides. Those eyes...the build..even the color of the fur was all but enough to tell her exactly what this thing was.

It was Peeta, back from the dead, trying to kill her.

Call it fatigue or shock, but whatever it was Katniss felt her breath slip from her as everything turned black.

Cato was going to die. Even he wasn't a fool to be sure of that. If he hadn't been so rash and reckless, then maybe he would have had more of a chance for survival, but unfortunately, he was rash and reckless, and now, about to be dog food. The howling was the first thing he saw/heard of them. First it was only one, then two, then...Cato lost count at nine and had begun running.

He didn't have anything but his protective mesh to keep him alive from those dogs, but they only covered so much. So he dodged the falling half-burning trees and stumbled into his campsite to see that it existed no longer. Not even his knife, which he had left at the edge of the clearing, was there. The only thing that remained of it was the fire. And it wasn't just a fire now. It was a full blown forest fire.

Cursing at his stupidity, Cato wondered how long he had been gone for his search and 'destroy' mission when he noticed the considerable amount of mountainous trees reduced to nothing but food for the hungry flames. He turned then, and ran to the only safe place he knew – the Cornucopia. _An end at the beginning, hm? _He thought ironically to himself.

He could hear the poundings footfalls of the hounds behind him through his clouded thoughts. Could almost feel their breathing against his sweating neck, but with death not a few feet away, he skidded to a halt when he saw what awaited him in the clearing.

Peeta, or bloodhound Peeta was there. Cato gritted his teeth as he saw the wolf-dog-creature pound relentlessly at one side of the Cornucopia before shooting his gaze up to see a mop of wild brown hair. Katniss.

Relief, anger, and worry all shimmered down into his system as he pondered over his next actions. When he saw Katniss, he also saw her bow and arrows. When he saw the dog and looked behind him, he saw death. He could risk it all and try against the female tribute, or he could try to claim fame by trying, but futilely bringing the dogs down. Cato didn't even have to hesitate on his options and quickly dove at the mutated Peeta.

First, his arm wrapped around the hound's thick golden neck as his other hand pulled down on its lower jaw. Cato's foot slammed hard onto its one of its hind legs as well, and soon enough, the creature was howling in pain – but Cato didn't stop. In the next split second, he had a leg hooked around its stomach, bringing it down as his hands worked at its jaws and pulled at them with all his strength. The Peeta-hound fought for a while until Cato had the bone joining his jaws together break apart. After that, all it took was a slam against the Cornucopia and it was dead.

The howls were inevitably louder and Cato repressed the instictive shudder as he quietly darted to the other end of the Cornucopia. It was strange that Katniss wasn't peering over at his kill, but he couldn't really focus on that. Instead, he began a silent yet quick ascent up before the first of the pack came jumping at his legs. Cato pulled himself out of harms way in time and fell onto his back in relief.

Adrenaline was slowly leaving his body, but at its sluggish pace, Cato still assured himself that he had enough to survive on as he rolled forward and prepared himself for a barrage of arrows. None came and all he saw was Katniss hovering near the edge unconscious.

Hesitation was a foreign concept to Cato, but once he saw the semblance between Katniss's and Clove's fetal position, it soon took over his whole entire being. But his fists curled and his nails bit deep enough into his skin to draw blood. Cato snapped back to reality and he slowly approached the knocked out girl. He knew what he had to do, could feel the whole nation telling him what to do, but somehow, in someway, all he thought about was his brother's books of gallant knights...


	14. Chapter 14

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_"A wolf in sheep's clothing is still a wolf." ~ Unknown._

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The next second split into a blur.

Cato's bones rung with an unsung song as his body was hurled towards the steel ground. His eyes momentarily unfocused, his senses relied on his ears instead and heard the carnivorous yapping of the mutts below. Again, reality surged through him as every fiber of his being screamed at him to get up, move away, and return to the fight.

"Move and I shoot." Katniss hissed, an arrow already drawn from her pack. She back peddled a few steps before momentarily glancing over at the edge. The mutts were still there, barking, howling for their blood. They were tributes once...Dead tributes.

_Rue!_ Katniss made the mistake to care, to love, and most especially to think. Her eyes glazed over once again with a graying memory as she recalled the last few hours she spent with Rue. How the girl curled against her side in the freezing wake of evening's hold. How she glowed in the light of receiving such a large share of food. All this, Katniss recalled. All the happy moments she cherished and ached over since her passing were squeezing her dry again. So when she saw that dog, with those big brown eyes – she shot the arrow.

"Wrong choice." Cato said, tackling her to the ground. The two simultaneously fell and with a renewing vigor, Cato had his hands clasped around her little, fragile neck. He didn't bother questioning why she shot at a dog. Didn't care nor want to know. All he needed was her dead and a ride home. Get everything over with and just sleep in a nice new bed. Maybe then he could finish his conversation with his father...if he ever planned on talking to him again.

Yet what disrupted his yearning thoughts was the effortless struggle Katniss was putting up. She remained limp, tiny...

_Clove._

Cato shook his head and loosened his hold. "What happened to your fire?" he asked, voice hoarse.

Katniss's eyes slowly slid to meet his gaze. She might have well been dead, but Cato could still feel the pulse; couldn't see the life in those empty orbs, but she was still there. Alive.

"Kill me." she whispered. She wasn't faking then. She didn't want to fight anymore. She didn't need more blood on her hands as it was, and just seeing tiny Rue's eyes belonging to that beast's...She snapped, and she was broken. Broken and lost. Prim deserved better than that, and Katniss knew that in either way or form – if she really, truly did win the Games, that she would not return as the girl with that fire and sense of morality in her.

So staring into those dark eyes, she knew that at least this way...she had chosen the right death. Cato was brutal, reckless, and strong. A worthy opponent to bring her, her death.

"You're an idiot."

Cato pushed himself off of Katniss and pried her silver weapons away from her. He shouldered them and ordered for her to stand up. Pathetically, Katniss did and Cato twisted her arms in a way to keep her from turning back. Leading the girl to the edge, he had her stare over at the hounds.

They were fearsome now, if they weren't before. The smoke had escalated to the point where it was a sea among them. A very dark, cloudy, sea. And in its deepest trenches were the monsters of the Capital jumping in and out of view. With jaws snapping open and close, they snarled at the two tributes teasing them with their mere presence.

Cato's attention snapped back to Katniss as he felt a tug on her arms. Gritting his teeth, he pulled her back. "What do you think you're doing?" he interrogated.

Katniss looked at him suspiciously. "Die?" she offered. She shook her head, her focus slightly hardening. "That's why you led me here, right? So you can push me right off and let the dogs rip me apart till I'm dead." she said.

"You think I'd let you go so easily?" Cato retorted.

Katniss scowled. "Well forgive me for being so thoughtless." she snapped.

Cato bit down his anger at her attitude. Here they were, with his life at her hands and she was still being aggravating?!

"Why is it that you want to die so quickly?" he asked.

"Why is that you want to know?" she replied.

Cato growled as he pulled them away from the hounds and pushed her to the ground. Her head hit the metal with a resounding _bang! _As he stood right over her. "Don't push me, Twelve. I can drag out your death for as long as I want," Cato swiped off an arrow from the pack and pretended to aim it right at her. "I've never put torture out of my skill set."

Katniss bit down her retort and looked to the side. "Rue died because of me." she said. She shut her eyes and paused for a lengthy minute. "Peeta died because of me, too." she added in a lower voice.

She then heard Cato scoff. "And Clove died because of me as well. _Big deal."_ he commented. But Katniss knew better. She heard the bitterness in his voice, no matter how discreet it was and for once, saw Cato in a different light. He might have been trained to do this for all his life, but he was still human. He had a family, He had friends.

"You see her?" Katniss asked quietly.

Three seconds elapsed.

"Dying? Yeah," he exhaled. _Held her too, _he silently added in his mind.

Katniss shook her head. "No, I meant now. Look down, Cato and see for yourself." she told him, finally pushing herself off the floor. She sat up and watched as Cato warily heeded her instructions and waited with a bated breath. She had lost a lot, but Cato had lost a friend too.

_And maybe, it can be easier..._Katniss thought, hoping that Cato could be swayed from his final judgment on how her life ended.

"I don't," Cato started, but then caught his breath. His eyes widened, if not by much before clouding over with an indistinct emotion. His fists curled though, and he turned on Katniss. "What is this?" he hissed, eyes finally aglow.

Katniss smiled bitterly and answered tersely; "The Capital."

But before Cato could branch out his anger furthermore, Katniss continued on. "We don't have to do this, Cato. We could still beat them and the Games." she added.

"And how's do we do that?" Cato snapped, pacing up and down the small pathway offered to them. The bow was tightly held in his hands, and if he directed anymore pressure on them, would probably break again – and Katniss prayed dearly that that wouldn't happen.

"We die." she smiled. Brandishing out a small, makeshift bag from her pocket, Katniss produced a handful of Nightlock from them and plopped them all in her palm. Taking a few for herself, she let her gaze wander over to Cato. She didn't need to say anything else as her silent proposal lay in her hands.

And for a while, the mutts' growling and howling grew hollow and muffled as Cato's inner conflict raged on inside of him. He stared at those berries, inconsiderate of the audience's bated breaths before he too, took the rest of the berries and balanced them in a heavy hand.

Katniss looked up at him. "Together?" she asked.

He nodded.

"One," she started.

"Two."

Cato hoped he knew what he was doing.

"Three."

And they both popped the berries into their mouths.

"_STOP! STOP!"_

The two tributes instantly spit out the poisonous fruit from their mouths as the announcement goes off.

"_LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, I AM PLEASED TO PRESENT TO YOU THE VICTORS OF THE 74TH HUNGER GAMES! KATNISS EVERDEEN AND CATO MIKAELSON!"_

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><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong> _Okay, _so shorter chapter, but it is the end of the second half..so I'll let that slide for me. in regards on to how I decided to play Cato's choice off..It was either a) I make the Game-secton of the story longer to give a more in-depth reason as to why Cato would suddenly agree to turn against the Capital and etc, etc...or b) I do a quick close examination of Cato and decide, well..My Cato in this story is more..lethal(?) (_is that the right word for it?) _..in a way and he does not like to be used. And he was used...Make sense? I'm opwn to PMs if anyone would like a more thorough explanation, but anyhow, onwards with this story~!


	15. Chapter 15

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><p>"<em>Et tu, Brute!"<em>

-_(Julius Caesar Act III, Scene I)_

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><p><em>.<em>

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Cato and Katniss looked at each other as bountiful caskets of doubt filled their heads. They both knew that they wouldn't have gone through with the plan in the end. Heck, even Katniss, who had proposed the idea, had kept the berries lying in her mouth waiting for that one moment where Cato would fall dead onto the floor. But it didn't happen, and they were both victors. Just at the thought of it, Katniss felt the fatigue grab her in a suffocating hold as the hovercraft appeared above them. Two disc-like platforms slowly fell to their reach and the both of them grabbed it in unison. Just like that, they were anchored onto it with an electrical jolt and brought up.

From that point on, it was a blur. The world seemed to fade out as people rushed in and out. Numbly, Cato had a needle piercing his skin before drifting into animosity. As with Katniss, but she managed to hold on a little bit longer. Between the drugs being shot into her blood, she saw flashes of bright light and _was that Peeta?_

She'd never know.

Although ironically, the only thing to keep her down – to keep her from thinking she had indeed died, was Cato, situated in the room right next to hers. He never once fought off the heavy ambush of medicine or shouted out in pain, but through those windows of consciousness, she saw him. Albeit looking worse for wear, she saw him and that's what kept her sane.

And then she it was just an inch thick of glass separating them. Doctors were busy flowing in and out of his room, and Katniss wondered if Cato had been suffering more than he let on, but again – she'd never know. Katniss was knocked into a black space and when she woke up again, she was in a room.

There were soft, luminescent yellow lights showering down on her and when Katniss sat up, she saw that she was in a bed. Dressed down in a plain gown, she found as she tried to get off and out out of the empty room, that a bracelet had her chained down. She would have fought – she truly would have – if not for the red-haired Avox that had come in silently with a tray of food.

Katniss stared at her with a bitter numbness yet was glad for the company. She let herself be ushered back into bed with her pillows propped up behind her and be fed. The food was bland but energizing. By the time she had cleaned the tray from food, Katniss only then realized how truly hungry she had been. Nodding at the Avox, she wanted to say something – anything! - but found her lips tightly shut.

The Avox girl left and Katniss fell back to sleep again.

It was like that, a continuous pattern of eating, sleeping, and eating again. So by the time she woke up with no restraint on her wrist, Katniss set out to change into the set of clothes laid out for her before finally exiting the room.

The hallway she entered was bland and empty but she quickly recognized it to be the one in the Training Center. Was she in the Training Center? She wasn't so sure, but the nostalgia that hit her was much too much to bear and soon she found herself reaching out for her boulder amongst all this chaos.

"Peeta?" she called out.

She imagined him peering out from one of the many doors, a mop of messy blond hair groggily peeking out – but no such thing happened. Instead, she got her name in response. The voice that belonged to it was no doubt Effie's, but that wasn't what she wanted.

Katniss turned around and sure enough at the end of the hall in that elaborate chamber was Effie – Effie Haymitch, and Cinna all clustered into that familiar room. Her feet took off before she knew it, all thoughts and logic flown out of her head. It was Haymitch she first launched her arms around first, and she relished every single bit of warmth she felt from the returning hug. There was no coyness or insincerity in his embrace, and when he whispered, "Nice job, sweetheart," even his normal sarcasm was gone.

Next was Cinna and while he was silent throughout their reunion, Katniss felt that his hug alone was enough. It was long, strong – everything that Katniss needed and with a few awkward pats on the head coming from Effie – she was pretty sure the teary-eyed woman and her comments were enough to fill in the silence.

"Now come on, sweetheart – go off with Cinna. You need to get ready for the ceremony," Haymitch gently chided. Katniss broke free from her hug with the said stylist yet let him keep her hand in his.

Together, the two of them left the room with Cinna covering Katniss from the cameras. The rest of the walk was sheltered in an amiable silence and Katniss was suddenly glad for Cinna holding her hand. With the countless twists and turns they had taken – she wasn't so sure that she'd ever be able to find her way back.

"Katniss!"

When they left the sanctuary of that elevator, both she and Cinna were instantly hit with the bright lights the Prep Team kept around them. There's Flavius, Venia, and Octavia all brightly dressed in their own unique clothes twittering in sincerity and happiness of her being there, but Katniss was too far out of their reach for her to fully understand the gibberish that spouted off their lips. Upon entering the room and being guided to where she would have her first real meal, she had spotted Portia silently addressing her entrance with a small congratulatory smile before ducking down under an archway and leaving them.

Portia was Peeta's stylist.

"I'll only be for a while, Katniss." Cinna suddenly said, beckoning down and whispering into her ear. Startled from her sinking mood, Katniss could only watch as Cinna left through the same archway as Portia.

Being left alone to fend off the stylists, Katniss tried to pay attention and nodded and smiled at all the comments thrown her way. (_"Oh look at you! There's hardly a blemish on your skin!" "And your hair! I can't ever remember it being that glossy!")_

Did she look so...changed?

Katniss had yet to find herself in front of a mirror to see how she really appeared, but she could only guess that the Capital had gone out of its way to erase all famish and scars that the Games had left on her figure before locking her up in that solitary room.

In the midst of her mind, she wondered how Cato was faring and if he was dealing with all this...abruptness...better than her. Surely, the sturdy brute had some ghosts to fight off, or did he? Katniss couldn't shake off that image of an inhumane statue that was Cato, and was slowly losing the memory of seeing his human side. The one that looked out – and maybe even, mourned for Clove.

She remembered acknowledging that he too had a family...friends, back home. But the more she tried to cling onto that picture, the more the edges blurred out. Cato Mikaelson was a tribute-turned-victor and that was all there was to it now.

* * *

><p>"Can I have more?" Katniss asked, breaking Flavius' and Venia's argument on what skin tone was the better color. Sandy-yellow? Or glowing-blue?<p>

No matter what side they were on, they both shot down her request. At least, Octavia was on her side as she slid a bread roll. "They don't want you heaving all that up in the ceremony, later on." she added

Katniss thanked her and as she finished the last bits of the bread, she was led out of the room and into the familiar office of the Prep Team. She was stripped down save for her underwear, and while the team oo'ed and aw'ed at the "full body polish", all Katniss saw in the mirror was a mascot of hunger.

But the Prep Team were blinded with what was their vision of pretty and soon set to work on her makeup and nails. Once they were done, they took a step back to admire their work before Cinna came in with his newest art.

"Have you given up on the whole 'girl on fire' thing?" Katniss asked, watching as Flavius and surprisingly, Portia helped Cinna unravel the cover hiding the dress.

Cinna turned to her with a discreet smile as he settled the fabric over her thin frame. "You tell me." he replied, stepping away.

What Katniss saw – _felt –_ first were her breasts. The paddings there were incredible and she chanced a glance at her friend for some explanation.

His lips pressed into a thin line as he shrugged. "The Capital wanted to surgically do it and this was the compromise Haymitch got you." he said.

Katniss nodded and continued to look at her reflection. Whatever broken skeleton she saw earlier had evaporated into thin air. Suddenly, she didn't look so lifeless and empty as she stared in awe at her newest ensemble.

The whole dress itself was silk and strapless – and from the waist down, flared like a ballroom gown. Over the silk was a sheer glimmering fabric that highlighted the colors of the dress underneath. From the bottom, was the color of ashes, but as Katniss's eyes rose up, she saw the workings of a sunset flaring out to a solid white to her chest.

"Turn around." Cinna ordered, and she did.

Covering Katniss's back was the faintest patterns of wings. Katniss breathed in and faced Cinna once again. "It's beautiful." she murmured, tracing her fingers over the elaborate detail on her back.

"It's you." Cinna answered, smiling softly. His hand left his back revealing a thin necklace shining in the light, as if catching fire.

"_Thank you." _Katniss replied sincerely. She waited for Cinna to finish adorning her neck with the simple jewelry before slowly spinning around to catch her look one last time. The dress was amazing, she had to admit – but it felt off putting..."It's too _soft._." She observed.

"I thought Peeta would have liked this better." was Cinna's slow answer.

Immediately, Katniss could feel the small pinpricks of pain concerning him, and blinked back the tears. Her face, yes, that too looked very soft. Katniss shook her head, the gentle curls brushing against her bare skin. Peeta was gone but the Capital remained standing. She had to focus on that. _They _had to focus on it.

"Come now."

Again, Cinna led her away into an elevator, but this time, it was just her left to go in it. When she emerged again now, Haymitch was there waiting for her.

He asked for a hug, and she obliged – but then Katniss couldn't free herself from the embrace. It was then did those fast, calculated words hammer out of her mentor's lips and into her mind did she freeze.

Katniss felt as if her whole body turned ice while from beyond the curtains' the crowds feverish cheers threatened to break her.

Haymitch let her go and pushed her to her spot.

"_...the Capital's onto your whole showing them off at the arena thing. Wrapping up a Career to join your mess isn't helping either. They're furious."_

"_So what?" she had breathed._

"_Your only line of defense had been being madly in love with Peeta, and even at least he was _already _there to begin with from the get-go of the act."_

"_And I wasn't?"_

"_That isn't the point, sweetheart," he paused. "Now, you have to play it safe but still be yourself." _

_Haymitch pushed her away and smiled. "Besides, haven't you already figured out Cinna's costume for you?"_

Caesar Flickerman's voice boomed into Katniss's ears and upon hearing her name being announced, her only second of sanctuary shatters. Holding her breath, Katniss took a step forward into the spotlight, realizing that the Games have only just really started.

* * *

><p>AN: _*dodges tomatoes and knives* _Ok, I probably deserve any heat concerned about my long abscence bu - _*dodges pitchfork* - _t I don't really have a reason as to why I was gone for- _* dodges_ _ flying chainsaw_* - so long except for the fact that life happened. As always. Anyway, we're at least moving on and I think, for those who've PM'ed me, that most romance will commence once they;re on the train. Okay? Okay.

I'll also probably will be doing a heavy re-construction on this story whence its done.

Sorry again!


	16. Chapter 16

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><p>AN: There's a first _ in this chapter. If it comes out in any way romantic, someone tell me because that, is _not _what I had planned. Otherwise, I think that's a bout it. Oh, and yes, this chapter may be a "slow" one, but know that if I continued any longer it'd last about eighteen pages rather than five.

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><p><em>.<em>

_._

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They both met each other at the center of the stage, and maybe it was because they were a living reminder of the Games, but whatever it was, the strain that surged from their first encounter ever since their escape from the arena increased a tenfold as they caught each other's gaze. Katniss was the last to react in the handshake as her attention was stolen by those shaded eyes. Cato stood in front of her, pristine in his silver suit, but something in him had changed. She knew something had, but she didn't know what.

Letting her hand fall to the side, Caesar's words barely broke through her thoughts as she thought back to Haymitch's words. She was treading on waters too dangerous, too unfathomable, to swim through – but she had to try.

_Think Peeta, _she thought to herself, settling down in one of the cushioned chairs. It was ornate and farthest away from the nearest camera. Katniss ridiculed herself to think that that was enough to hide from the prying eyes. She masked a sigh with her hand and chanced a look at Cato.

Either he hasn't noticed her constant glances, or he had grown to ignore her – but if he thought that she was simply making sure he wouldn't pull a dagger on her – he was horribly _wrong. _

Katniss wasn't quite good at examining others; an obvious attribute given to the years she had lived ignorant to Peeta's feelings, but coming out of the Games forced her to mature and see through the obscure.

For example, Caesar was still Caesar – but different. He was a professional at his job, but with the closest inspections, she knew something was off. His dress shirt was white – clean, but his jacket's right flap was a bit askew. He kept a charismatic beat, but his right hand made a habit of tapping his leg too much. So Caesar knew, albeit how much, Katniss didn't know – but he knew enough to know that she and Cato had done something wrong. But the audience didn't know that, and they didn't need too either.

The three-hour film had come on, and the lights had slowly begun to dim until they were scraggly arms faintly stretching out to meet the edges of her dress. It was nothing but pure silence, but Katniss couldn't argue with it.

She used the shadows to her advantage, although she knew that there'd still be a camera watching her every move, for some of her emotions to come through her carefully constructed facade.

Since it was her and Cato being the last survivors, the team in charge of making the film focused on them the most. Again and again, she would see Cato giving out orders, being one step ahead of others, and overall, being the perfect, bloody, tribute he was destined to be.

But then, there was those small scenes he'd have – mostly with Clove but some with Glimmer. Katniss honestly preferred his shots with Clove because the feelings that breathed between the two were sincere. It was obvious that Glimmer had only been a conquest he took on for the Games. Though pointless, it gave his fans another thing to "oooh" about.

Yet it was apparent that Cato more or less hated those. More than once she found her attention diverted and directed to his hand on the armrest. His fingers, gone of scars, curled around the edge often. By the time it moved on towards the rising climax of the Games, she was sure she spotted dents made into the fine leather.

It was hard, seeing everything from that point. Katniss thought she had built enough barricades to reduce the pain, but it still hurt. It hurt and it ached, and Katniss felt as if that tiny little bread roll she was offered would come back up again. She almost did when she felt fingertips brush against her bare arm – almost did a double-take seeing that it came from Cato.

For a moment, she thought he would slip in some snide comment, but was wronged when he nodded over at Caesar. She hadn't even looked at the host since the whole film began but was mildly taken back by the saddened expression on his face. Of course, it could have been acting – but Katniss took the grief to heart as she realized they were at Peeta's death right now and they _had _gotten along with each other.

She closed her eyes and recalled everything.

Dead, eyes glazed, berries in his hand...

It seemed like suicide, Katniss first thought. But Peeta was stronger than that and he valued his life far too much...right? But she didn't listen to him, broke her promise and left him alone. But...

Peeta would never spite her, right?

Or, maybe he would, but by dying? Would he do such a thing?

Katniss took a big breath in, realizing that she had spaced out longer than she had meant to but saw that she had missed nothing more except the ending. They were spitting the berries out of their mouths now, a clear look of uncertainty settling in before the booming voice made its announcement.

They had won, they were the victors...

Katniss tore her eyes from the screen in time to stand up for the anthem. To her side, Cato had squared his shoulders, eyes straight; he looked like a soldier ready for command.

Or a medal.

President Snow, if anything, looked bigger than she last remembered. He approached them with two little girls dressed in white flanking his sides. Both held a velvet pillow of the darkest red with crowns perched daintily on top. Everything about it set Katniss on edge.

She made sure to especially raise her guard as he got closer and closer to them. Those hands of extreme pale pallor took hold of one of the crowns and placed it on Cato's head. The boy in return, did nothing, but there was some restraint to his posture when the President did get close to him. But just like that, Snow stepped back and Cato looked like his normal self again.

Katniss only had to make sure she did the same. She took a breath in once President Snow was but a mere breath's away from her. She didn't breathe, but she didn't have to. She had already inhaled in the scent.

Katniss tried to tell herself that that was it. That it was the pungent scent he carried that burned her nostrils and sent her steeling against her wobbly knees. That shot her in that dark place of fear.

But Snow stepped back, and she dared a breath. He smiled, and she accepted the sign with a hardened gaze. He would be watching her from now on, waiting for that one inevitable slip before he again, would have the hounds on her – but Katniss swore. She swore off all distractions and mistakes and planned to keep playing his game for as long as she could. President Snow couldn't keep her under his watch forever, and when that time came, she'd disappear from his radar.

Until then, she decided that a smile and wave would do to end the interview, and together, she and Cato stood side by side and left the stage.

* * *

><p>The feast that directly followed the ceremony was expected to endure the majority of the night and dawn's earliest hours. Seeing that the victors were the main focus of it, Katniss tried to escape the event by feigning fatigue, but alas, Effie kept her well fed with medicine.<p>

Even Cinna wouldn't heed to her desperate cause. She dropped hints at first, trying to dissuade him from refurbishing her appearance, but when that didn't work – she just blatantly told him that she didn't want to go.

Finally, she left the confines of the barren elaborate corridor and entered the grand hall much to her distaste. Katniss's escort, a co-host of some type, kindly left her and took with him those ghost fingers that hovered over rather than touch her skin.

Already, she felt the cold seep into her as the lofty ceilings stretched above, offering crystal lights to shower the guests in heavenly colors. Quietly, Katniss sought for the nearest corner and kept her eyes trained on anything and everyone.

The Capital people, hardly looking like people, were unknown to her appearance, and she was grateful for that. But then, her eyes spotted Haymitch, and she made to move towards him; her first mistake that led her to tripping over someone's foot.

Reflexes already taking charge, Katniss grabbed onto the closest thing to her and kept herself from taking such an embarrassing fall. Thinking she had latched onto some wooden railing, she stood up and slowly raised her eyes back to the event.

People were still parading with plates of food and mindless chattering, but those around her and paused and stared at her with an unbridled excitement twittering behind their colorful eyes. Katniss frowned and gripped onto the railing for more than posture support.

"Well, is it not the victors."

Chilled, Katniss turned and saw that the whole hall had finally lapsed into silence and looked towards her with the same expression as the people from before. Katniss wondered why it was she in the spotlight and not Cato.

Cato, where was he?

"She looks pale, Cato."

"She almost fell...sir." Katniss's eyes widened and she looked at the 'railing.' Cato met her surprise with the commandeering prowess he always seemed to keep about him. But there was a flicker of annoyance that all to quickly disappeared upon being addressed on again.

"But you caught her." the man replied. The owner had a sneer in his tone, expertly hidden but flowing freely in his voice. The audience Katniss saw, was now captivated by what could happen next. She wished them all away.

"I did." these words were almost spat out, Katniss noted. But she expected much. Cato would probably have nothing to do with her but now, here she was latched onto his arm because she stopped her fall.

"Good, good," tension gone, the sarcastic jolliness brought the guests to smile unnervingly at the victors. "Now while you two are together, why don't you honor us all by having the first dance? I'm sure Peeta wouldn't mind, right Katniss?"

At the mention of his name, she stiffened. Katniss nodded, not trusting her voice to respond and let go of Cato's arm, only to hand it back to his waiting hand.

With a formal bow, he dipped his head as if to place a kiss on her hand but left it so limp and untouched. He was tense, she saw, but he had the sense to rise back up and lead her to the center of the floor.

Throughout the whole thing, Katniss kept her gaze to the ground and watched as the intricate linings of the carpet melted to give way to marbled floorings. At once, archaic music played with the help of hidden instruments as Cato's arm slithered around her waist.

If she hadn't been so wary of the millions of eyes upon them, she would have fought off his pull – but she hadn't, and she was smoothly brought into close quarters with her fellow victor. Neither of them dared to look each other in the eye but it was also quite clear that none of them liked what was going on.

"Come now! Be merry, the Games _are _over!" and as if there was humor to that, the crowd laughed.

Katniss pressed her lips together in a tight line and carefully looked up at Cato. At first, she thought he was indeed glaring at her, but after a double-take, saw that the storm brewing in those eyes had dark emotions not held for her – but for someone else.

At first, she thought he wouldn't move, but then, her fingers felt his muscles tense beneath them before he began to guide her around the floor. To say the least, it was awkward. Katniss had no idea what she was doing.

She tried to follow his footing, but found the movements too unpredictable to understand. Next, she tried asking him to help her along or at least slow it down – but of course, the Career did neither and kept to his pace. Then finally, as he let her spin out of his arms and do a slow twirl, he brought her back in, slid a few more steps to the right, then pushed himself at arm's length from her side and bowed.

The audience clapped, Katniss too lost in the steps to realize that the dance had finished, then cheered on for one more display whilst other daring couples gathered at the floor to join them. The invisible orchestra struck up another tune, and they were back to the beginning again.

Thankfully, the tempo was slower – easier to follow. The arm around her waist wasn't so constricting anymore and slightly drooped, as if to signify that the owner was getting weary.

Weary of her or of everything else, Katniss didn't mind the lack of control as she enjoyed the new found space between them. She could breathe easier, dance better, and overall, felt better.

"You're a really bad dancer."

And suddenly, the calm that was slowly filling up her mind was invaded by her partner's offhanded comment. Frowning, she looked up to try and catch his eye, but to no avail, saw that Cato kept his steady gaze over her head.

"And where did _you _learn to dance, hm?" Katniss asked, careful to keep her voice low. "I thought all your district did was train killers."

What Cato did next surprised her. His arm, suddenly not so slack, pulled her in closer. Katniss gasped, feeling the pain shoot him in the hand he held and tried to pull free. Her efforts were futile and unseen as he kept her in a tight hold. When she finally locked onto his eyes, she saw nothing but a dark abyss in those blue orbs. His grip on her hand grew tighter, and Katniss knew that by the end of the dance, she'd have a bruise to tend to. But she didn't complain, she wouldn't let Cato best her.

Because as intimidating as he wanted to be, he wouldn't even come close to _his _level.

And as she locked eyes with the said man, all President Snow did was smile back up at her, his hand slowly setting down his glass of wine.

_I am always watching._

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><p>AN: So there you have it! Their first dance! Not romantic, but hey, its a first. Can anyone guess where Cato learned to dance though?

Also, I'll hopefully be returning to Cato's POV soon if not in the chapter after the next. I don't really fancy writing from Katniss' side. *shrugs* Don't know why, but I don't. But it's probably because the books themselves focus enough on her POV.

So after this, I think we're scheduled for the train ride, a filler, then a timeskip, and then Catniss time!


	17. Chapter 17

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><p>"<em>All religions must be tolerated...<em>

_For every man must get to heaven in his own way."_

_- Epictetus _

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><p><em>.<em>

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Katniss' feet were sore.

Having spent the remainder of the evening trapped in a frenzy of ever-changing partners, she had spent the entirety of the night gliding across the marbled floors in a dress that soon became too heavy and with a smile that became too worn. Even her stomach suffered, despite having a surplus of food spilling off the tables. She starved and grew weary of the celebration.

President Snow had especially made sure to see to her unending lists of greeters. Whenever she had stolen a minute away from the painfully bright floor, he would suddenly materialize by her side, a group of three or more in his tow. More than once, his attempts at keeping her "socializing", had led to spurned conversations and false smiles – even the quirky citizens had found it hard to tolerate her devitalizing attitude.

And in those few seconds of solace, she had found her eyes searching. She had spotted Haymitch around once or twice since her fall, managing to keep a casual air about him in his Stygian suit, but had given up on chasing his imaginary trail. Cato had been in her sights too – fortunate enough to escape the confines of the center ball. He appeared broody and admittedly..._dashing. _The young girls that attended the party following him like lost sheep was enough proof of his 'charming' looks.

Katniss rolled her eyes at the thought, recalling how he'd easily slaughtered those sheep thrown into the arena. A few more seconds ticked, and the digital clock by her bedside signaled that a new hour would arise in a few more protracted minutes.

Thinking she had wasted enough time futilely massaging her feet, Katniss arose from bed and straggled over to the door. Her fingers curled along the cold metal but met with resistance as they twisted the knob to the left. Katniss frowned and tried to open it again with more force.

She was trapped.

A hand shot up to Katniss's chest as she felt the beat of her heart increase. Had she not proven herself to be a little bit trustworthy? Was she so scorned in the eyes of the Capitol that they couldn't even trust her to hold it out in the chambers beyond her own?

_Come on, _Katniss urged, trying to still her shaky movements. Then all of a sudden, the door clicked open and Katniss jumped back. Frazzled, her eyes darted about for the nearest object, but again met nothing but a bare room.

"Oh, you're awake!" Effie's pink lips broadened, erasing any dubious look that might have haunted her face. "Good, good," she paused and her blue eyes roamed over Katniss's body. Unconsciously, the girl curled into herself, hunching into whatever shell she could. No matter what, even Effie's familiar eyes were too prosthetic – _Capitol-like –_ for her to be accustomed to. "Did you _even _bother to bathe before you slept?" her accent exaggerated every word pouring from her mouth.

Katniss shook her head and kept to appearing lost in those colorful swirls that made up Effie Trinket's top. She heard the woman heave a dramatic sigh.

"No matter, we'll clean you up before your interview – today's a busy, _busy _day!" she exclaimed a sing-song voice.

Katniss looked up from the complicated pattern, suddenly feeling dizzy on her feet from the sudden movement. Cinna chuckled, offering a steady hand on her shoulder to keep her from falling off the yellow stool. She groaned in reply and raised a hand to cover her eyes – Cinna slapped it away.

"I amfixing your makeup. Don't rub your eyes, Katniss." he reprimanded.

The girl fought off the urge to fight back. Effie had been right in regards to how busy the day would be. She had hardly scarfed down a slice of bread before the exuberant woman snapped her fingers and had _someone else_, to feed her. The bowl of oatmeal had been surprisingly bland for something coming out of the Capitol's kitchen – but even that wasn't the problem; the bowl had scarcely been bigger than

her palm – maybe even smaller!

"I don't see why I have to go through all this." she mumbled, finally letting Cinna put on the dress on her. It was plain – a sleek, sleeveless gray gown hugging her top before falling off to tickle her knees. The heels latched onto her feet were of a dark gold sheen – and if Katniss looked closer, would have seen that the dress itself seemed to glow like a subdued yellow. It was if there was hidden lightning brewing behind all the dark gray clouds that was her dress.

"You'll be home before you know it." she heard Cinna reply. His warm voice was enough to reach her ears and quell her tittering stomach. At least he had the goodness in him to be sympathetic towards her.

"Is she presentable?"

Even with the darkness hiding her vision, she could already see the grimace set on her mentor's face. A second later, she could even smell the stench of his recent drink. But upon opening her eyes, she saw that he had kept to being sober for the day and kinda even looked the part of a surviving victor.

"We need to talk quickly, so listen carefully." he instructed, edging towards the vanity mirror's counter. He sat down on it, impertinently shoving the numerous cosmetics so precisely set on it to a pile on the side. The Prep Team, Katniss predicted, especially Flavius, wouldn't be too happy upon arriving to see Haymitch's aftermath.

"Word is that the Capitol are out to tear you out of the picture." Katniss frowned as Haymitch took a breather. "Their plan is to use Cato against you. Naturally, since he's a Career, it's already hard enough to comprehend _how _you even got the boy to eat the berries with you," the drunkard waved a hand over himself. "Even I'm lost." he admitted.

"How?" Katniss asked."Are they going to get Cato to rip off my crown or something?"

Haymitch frowned and slammed his palm down on the counter. "You're not taking this seriously, they're going to get him to _kill _you."

Katniss' swayed in her chair. "What?"

Haymitch nodded, as if to assure the both of them of the reality that could be. "That's what my sources say, and in all honesty – it could work. This Cato boy has enough reputation under his belt to prove otherwise."

Feeling as if the world suddenly spun too fast for her, Katniss stumbled over her feet as she got off her stool. Hitting the ground with her bare feet, she took a big breath in.

"You look sick."

Gray eyes flickered up, the inner turmoil in them obvious. Katniss sighed and shook her head, sipping the last contents of her drink. "Don't you have anything better to say to me other than that?" she breathed out, discarding the plastic bottle into a jaunty-looking bin.

Cato shrugged, his broad muscles stretching out against the dark blue dress shirt he wore. "Can't say anything good if there's nothing _good, _to comment on." he replied casually. But before Katniss could make a clever response back, they were being called onward, and Cato had brushed past her, wearing that customary smirk of his in greeting to Caesar Flickerman's broad grin.

Katniss moved a second in later. Caesar looked over at her, the widening of eyes a cue for her to smile at him. "Ah, let's all sit now, why don't we?" he declared, as if he had been standing in that spot since dawn.

The two victors' eyes were drawn to the single couch, and the realization that they would have to sit next to each other took some time to register in. But once they did, Cato took the lead and sat at one end, legs spread apart with his elbows resting on his knees.

Katniss nodded to him and took the other end, trying to keep her skinny body as far away as she could from him.

Caesar's smile broke the tension once again. "And we're finally back together, with _two!, _victors for the first time!" His tone got higher. "Tell me, how does it feel to be back?"

The cameras in front of them spun automatically to the two victors, and Katniss began to wonder how she would ever survive this. Having spent only one interview alone – a very short one to add, she didn't know how she would manag_e _with someone who would be, if not already, out for her blood.

"Well seeing that I expected to _come back," _Caesar chuckled at Cato's arrogance, but the Career didn't seem to be too fazed about it and only smirked in reply. "There really isn't anything to comment on."

"But you came back with another tribute, Katniss Everdeen. Surely you didn't expect that one." Caesar commented. The said girl's eyes slightly narrowed at him. Caesar had always been carefree or accommodating to the person's situation. He actually gave some respect to them, knowing when the topic was too deep to delve into or when it was open to be questioned – but now, it wasn't like that. Even his voice, slick and toned to sound innocent yet probing, felt off.

Was this the start of the Capitol's plans to get rid of her?

Beside her, Cato shifted in his seat, leaning back ever-so casually. He was another person she had to keep an eye out too. "I don't think anyone did, to be honest."

"True, true," Caeser nodded his head and the rest of the interview droned on in the same tune. Caesar would switch from her and Cato, asking questions that were no doubt bothering every citizens' mind. Surprisingly though, nothing else about the ending was discussed and Katniss could only suspect it was because of the Capitol's doing. With how they edited the ending and what-not...

She frowned and recalled those altered moments. The tech team in charge of filming everything must have done some quick improvisation – something Katniss wasn't so sure she should be happy about; their words had been blurred, and scenes were fixed in to prolong their fight. Of course, there was still the finale which involved the berries, but everything before that was based on lies and expertly crafted scenes.

It was smart...covered the truth, but it also meant that the Capitol had taken the act offensively and had seen it as the most rebellious thing to do on camera. Now it was just a matter of confirmation on their parts and they were surely to end up dead.

Katniss shuddered at the mere thought of it as she left the set of the interview. From there, they would head back into the train and into their respective districts. A new house would both await them, their families already moved in – it was a welcoming thought, she decided. To be able to forget everything for at least one night, but before she could finally drop her visage as the victor that survived it all, she still had to tie up some loose ends on her part before anything could really be settled.

For one, she had Haymitch to confer to before she could safely enter the train and go  
>back home. Katniss didn't have to look far for him – he hadn't meandered far from the interview. So when she discovered a broken bottle by an overhead pathway connecting the interview center to the Training center, she knew where he would be.<p>

Haymitch had apparently been slowly adjusting himself to his old drinking habits for the past day. Already, Katniss saw the inevitable sag on his shoulders accompanied with those misty eyes too far gone to read from. But she had a mission, and so she approached him slowly.

Her heels softly resounding through the empty hall, she didn't have to walk much till his head turned to face her. The fog that heavily condensed in his eyes were blinked away, and the shoulders that drooped low were thrown back. Haymitch nodded off at her as his arms settled on the steel railing overlooking the city below and around.

"You did good." he said, as she stood a few steps behind him.

Katniss nodded, tugged at a loose strand of her hair, and sighed. "Question is, was it good enough?" she asked.

"No," this time, he sighed. "Hardly will ever be anymore, but that won't matter for now." His head bowed down.

"What do you mean by that?" she asked. Katniss ducked her head and tilted it to the side, hoping to catch whatever was on his mind. Haymitch scarcely budged from his position and continued to evade her prying eyes. Meanwhile, the harsh sunlight that fell down on them did nothing but drown Haymitch in a blinding glow.

"You'll be home free once we leave this city. The Capitol will still be watching you, but they won't always have their eyes on you once we reach District Twelve." he explained.

"And what about the tour? Cato?" Katniss badgered.

Haymitch reached into his linen jacket and procured a new bottle to drink from. He popped it open and already the smell hit her like a blistering spice. "The tour isn't really a problem." he said.

"Cato?"

Haymitch hitched the glass bottle high up in the air. He nodded it towards her before downing another venomous gulp. "You do whatever you did that kept him from killing you in the Games."

If it only were so easy.

Staring at the girl in front of her, Katniss slowly watched as she transformed back into her normal self; back to the Seam girl with the stringy, dark hair, paired with a set of hardened gray eyes. Quietly, she continuously folded her her into a simple pattern and watched as the brown locks washed out into the customary plait she had been living with for the past years.

It would be hard, she knew. When she had vied for her life and stood their barren of protection, she at least had Clove's mutt fueling whatever conflicting emotions that rued Cato's life that day. Now, they were out of the arena and venturing back into the districts – she had but a day to begin tying the bonds that would irregardless entwine Cato into her struggle of keeping her family and herself alive.

She sighed and stood up from her chair. Taking a sweeping glance across the room, she found nothing but the gray walls reflecting her current mood. Katniss shook her head and grabbed her jacket from the bed. If she was going to get Cato to help her, then she would have to start soon.

Leaving the confines of her bedroom, Katniss had only ventured into the next car of the train before it suddenly screeched to a halt. Steeling her feet against the pull on her body, she waited for the metal beast to come to a complete stop before heading to the circular windows – they had stopped; but why?

"_Attention: the train has stopped for some fuel. Guests are allowed to freely wander outside but may _not _venture out too far. Our departure will commence in fifteen minutes."_

Deciding to take advantage of the time, Katniss pulled away from the window and took to the nearest exit. The automatic door was just opening when she arrived at it, but Katniss was impatient and slipped past it once the opening was large enough for her to go through.

Once outside, she met a quiet breeze as she walked along the iron train tracks. Beyond her, the Capitol city was nothing but a blurry outline of buzzing life. It seemed so far away, and _she _seemed so far away, that she began to wonder how far they had gone in those few hours. Glancing about, Katniss tried to grasp at some sort of clue indicating where she might possibly be – but saw that nothing but open green fields surrounded them.

Just off to the side the wild grass, so verdant and spirited, was already tickling the edges of the rocky hill that the tracks were mounted upon. It was a freedom she had only seen once before now, and that was with Gale the day before the Reaping.

In her peripheral vision, she saw that Cato had too, grabbed hold of the opportunity and hung in the back balcony of the train. There was a far off look in his eyes, his chin just touching his crossed-over wrists, and his posture was slack. He was still dressed in his clothes from the interview, but his shirt was halfway untucked and some sections of his hair were standing up, indicating that he had probably taken a nap while they were in that dark tunnel.

He looked like he wanted to be alone, but Katniss had a plan to set out.

Rebelling against the will to just lightly slip away, she walked further out into the tracks where she knew she would be in his view. Already just a second in that spot, she saw his eyes refocus and narrow down at her. The hostility that was usually there was absent, but Katniss was pretty sure that it would be making its appearance soon once she began to speaking out.

"You're always where I don't want you to be, why is that?" but surprisingly, it was him who first initiated a conversation.

Katniss shrugged and crossed her arms over her chest. She turned, not fully, but halfway to the side so she could get a better look at him. "I was about to say the same thing." she replied.

Cato made a sound between a snort and a grunt before he straightened up his position. "I'd say you're following me." a smirked wiped over his lips.

Rolling her eyes, Katniss finally turned to face him – face set and firm. "That would be the last thing on earth that I would ever do. But while you're here, I've got something to ask you." she said.

The smirk disappeared and Cato leaned back into the shadows of the balcony's overhang:

"Yeah, I'm here. So shoot."

"Why didn't you kill me?"

"You _wanted _to die?" he scoffed.

Katniss' eyes hardened and she took a step closer. "Just answer me, Cato."

"And if I didn't want to?" There was a gleam in his eye as his head leaned forward. Katniss didn't know what to make of it, but she was getting riled up by each passing comment. Back in the afternoon, she and Haymitch had talked about the consequences of her rebelling against the Capitol. She would have endured Cato's difficult attitude, but it wasn't just her life anymore that was on the line.

"Can you just quit playing games with me, just for once?!" she ground out. Katniss' fingers curled around her biceps in an effort to keep her irritation down.

Cato let out a breath, a sound that was mingled in the likeness of a huff and a sigh before he stepped back into the setting sun's light. "If you haven't noticed, Katniss," a shiver ran down the said girl's spine. "The Games _are _done." he said, and then, with one more look at her, walked back inside the train.

Katniss, being left alone, bit her lip and followed him in a few minutes later. It wasn't due to the setting cold of night, but her temper _had _cooled down. It was, she noticed, the first time she really heard Cato say her name directly; she wished he hadn't, but he did. And his voice was laced with such contempt that now, Katniss could easily see him playing into the Capitol's plans.

It was never easy, but suddenly, she was too tired to even care.

* * *

><p>AN: I'm praying that their all in character and no one got too OOC towards the end.

I also hope that I conveyed Katniss correctly in the sense that, she's been through the Games, Peeta' s & Rue's death, and now she has not only the possibility of the Capitol out for her graveyard but her family and friends. Just imagine having all that piled up on your shoulders with a broody Cato to watch out for. _Although, _I'm pretty sure some of you wouldn't mind the Cato bit...

Anyway, that's the update to tie off the Games arc! And now we move onto Cato's POV. *mentally cheers*

Oh and thanks for the continuous reviews !


	18. Chapter 18

_He could hardly remember it, that once upon a time moment in his life: his mother was trying yet failing at teaching him how to dance, ( "To enhance your footwork and overall grace in movement,") she had said, and his brothers were home watching from the same shabby sofa sitting in the corner of their ever-shrinking living room, when it all happened._

_Calif was just being Calif; a quiet presence sitting cross-legged on his side of the chair, silently flipping through a borrowed book and failing at hiding his bemused smiles whilst Carter was another story. Every time their mom cajoled Cato to be persistent with a motherly endearment attached at the end of each sentence, he would howl with laughter and mimic her words in his own version of a sickly sweet voice._

_Though it only grew worse when Cato himself would make a mistake. During those times, Carter would find himself at the end of receiving glares coming from either Cato or Calif or even their mother for his boisterous laughter. Carter had been an incredibly intolerant boy during his early teens._

_"Just ignore him, sweet cake." her mother gently chided. But that had been the last straw in that moment._

_Carter had finally decided to intervene and pinched Calif's cheeks. Lanky as he was, the strenuous days spent jailed in the Academy was futile in striping away the youth clinging onto his cheeks, and undoubtedly left him a less than desired humble appearance._

_"Did you just pinch my cheeks?"_

_"I believe so, munchkins." Carter answered._

_Their mother narrowed her eyes with growing suspicion, her hands releasing Cato's tiny fingers and landing on her hips. But by then, she was already too late._

_Her first and second born had thrown themselves at each other, matching in gusto and energy as blows were exchanged and fists were caught. Calif grinned throughout the whole thing, completely feral in appearance while Carter decidedly endured it all in silent enjoyment. Their mother, standing in the sidelines, pressed her lips together. They seemed to be getting thinner and thinner, but young Cato had paid no attention whatsoever and quickly jumped in with an infinitum amount of energy to spare._

_He pounced in, much to his mother's chagrin, and swung his tiny fist into one of his brothers' sides. It did nothing but elicit a groan, and surely enough he was enveloped into the middle of the chaos._

_"Boys!" their mother had shouted. The melody in the background faded into thin notes falling on deaf ears as the eldest of the trio swung small Cato into the air before tackling Calif off to the side. The skirmish continued with the absence of the youngest as he sulked off to his mother in irritation of being thrown out of the fight._

_"Boys!" She yelled again, scorn shaking her tall body. She held Cato in her arms as scant lines of angry tears burned his cheeks, and could only watch as they rolled over the floor and knocked their bodies into the rickety bookcase. Startling into a painful shock, both brothers stopped in time to watch as the wave of old books slowly tumbled out and cascaded them in a heavy torrent of dust and pain._

_Silence happened next and it ticked by slowly until tiny Cato appeared from his mother's arms and began laughing. Soon, his contagious laughter spread like fire and his brothers too, joined in. Their mother sighed as she let go of her youngest and strained a tired yet contented smile as she watched him tumble into the messy pile of books and brothers in mock jeering._

_Young, innocent, Cato flashed her a grin between his brothers' smothering one-armed hugs before his eyes flickered to the doorway. He'd only caught a glimpse, but he saw it._

_His father left that night for work with a small, sincere condescending smile on his face._

_It would be the first of the last._

Present Cato, sighed at the memory and ran a hand through his coarse hair. He had abandoned the regime of showering last night and was left with gel-hardened locks perching on top of his head. He turned in his seat and leaned onto wooden table. His elbows slid further in as his head tiredly tested in his palms. Despite winning such an ordeal as the Games, he realized that he would be going through the next toughest thing by bearing the disappointment and shame that he had brought to his family's name.

Twenty-four tributes had entered that arena, and only one was expected to come out with the honor of boasting his accomplishment of having outsmarted the rest. Yet there were two, and one was a scraggly girl from the poor District Twelve, love lost, while the other was a proud-born District One Academy student suddenly shunned from his gated community for winning in such an unprecedented ad unacceptable manner.

It was either win or die, not win or compromise with the next best solution and live to tell the tale regardless of the outcome.

Cato was doomed and with that he hit his head on the table with a heavy sigh.

A thought passed him, he could jump from the train, possibly die or be branded insane and be locked up in a padded room : be seen as a lost case or continue to live in the protection of an asylum while keeping the label of a weakling over his head. There were endless possibilities on how he could take his news of 'victory' home - all live or die scenarios with the former ones carrying plaguing burdens over his head...

Everything seemed more simple back in the Academy.

"You're up early."

The corner of Cato's lip twitched. "So are you, for a drunk." He replied.

Haymitch stood in front of him, arms opened wide with a bottle of vodka and beer in each hand. "I do try," he let out an unflattering burp. " You could at least do the same thing." He nodded, stumbling to the nearest couch.

Cato scrunched his nose, the stench of the mentor becoming too strong for him to ignore. "What do you mean old man?"

"You," Haymitch hiccuped. "Look like you've been to hell and back far too many times, boy." He said.

"You're not exactly in the position to say that though, are you?" Cato said, pushing himself out of the chair.

Haymitch threw him a lopsided grin. "Actually, I am!" He chuckled.

Cato left the room before Haymitch could spout off more words of wisdom.

He entered the next section with every intent to drown the scent of Haymitch's pitiful sorrow in the drain along with his other worries until he found his eyes resting on Katniss. She sat on a red lounge chair with a steaming mug and a tray of breakfast food served on the mahogany table in front of her. Her hair had been braided back and her clothes remained plain and ruffled - as if she's slept in them and Cato scowled and looked away.

"Good morning." Katniss murmured from her seat. She hadn't raised her eyes up yet to meet his, but somehow Cato got the idea that she was intentionally laying out everything in front if him for an ulterior move. She had been everywhere he had been for the past two days. The Games were over, but he wondered if she'd have the chance, she would avenge her lover's death through him.

Cato shook his head and moved to leave the compartment. He'd had enough of contemplating about the unknown, much preferred to deal with it one at a time: and if Katniss was planning to do some act of revenge well - he'd make sure she wouldn't have time to brandish out some other poisonous treat when her life would be in a newly compromised situation.

"Peeta always tried to get along with people, you know?" Katniss' voice continued to drone.

Cato's hand hovered over the sliding door's handle, the cool metal just a reach away and he would be home free - but he pulled back and looked at the girl in the same room as him.

"I never asked about what your lover did or didn't do." He stated.

"Did he try to befriend you?"

Cato snorted. "Did he want a spear shoved down his throat?" He saw Katniss' hand twitch and waited for her to turn to him and glare with those dark eyes. Waited for the sting of a slap or the caress of a cold knife - but she remained motionless and heard her softly exhale.

"But you befriended the other Careers." She pointed out.

Cato crossed his arms and leaned on the doorframe. "Recruited," he corrected. "And I led them." _To their deaths._

"But Clove? You guys were from the same district."

Inside, Cato felt himself curl a bit inside. He burned; whether for grief or anger...he'd never know - maybe it was a mixture of both but he was surely hateful towards the leading cause of her death. He'd deny no more and acceptably agreed to himself that she had been more than just a pawn. She had helped, kept him sane - he had forged a bond with her. They had grown close. But...

"She trained with me." Was his curt affirmation.

Katniss took a pause, took time long enough to take a sip from her hot drink. "Were you guys close?" She asked. She closed her eyes as she slowly began to ease the conversation to her side.

Cato narrowed his eyes; did she think..?

"We weren't idiots if that's what you're asking."

Her hands tightly curled around the mug. "So falling in love is seen as being stupid?" She questioned, already feeling the undertones of a bristling fire in her stomach.

Cato shrugged. "It is if you're going to have to kill that person." He replied.

"But they changed the rules, Peeta and I could have gone home_ together_," her voice suddenly halted, as if noticing the rising hysteria in it. "You and Clove could have gone home together." She added.

Cato smiled albeit it was bitter. "In the Games, there is never a 'we,' Katniss."

She stood up from her chair, hands still holding the mug. "Then why'd you spare me?"

He frowned and pushed himself off the wall. He turned around and gripped the knob in an iron hold. He told himself he had enough contemplation time but...

"You knew what the Capitol really was, didn't you? Knew since the beginning. That's why you knew that they did something to...them, and how they became part of those hounds, right?" He interrogated.

He heard Katniss move, but refused to turn around. "The Capitol doesn't really glorify itself to look so almighty and...idealistically desirable..to the people in my Distr -"

"And you think that's how they present themselves to mine?" He cut off. He could feel Katniss' glare on his back, but kept his ground and waited for her answer.

After a sigh, she shook her head. "Why am I still alive, Cato?" It was really, the only thing she wanted from him – an answer.

Cato was about to give it, if not for the tug he felt. He closed his mouth and stared at Katniss. "I'll tell you later." he finally resigned to say.

And before she could cut in with her words, he left.

Katniss stood there for a few seconds before making the decision to chase after him. With only a few steps taken though, she was held back by calloused fingers. Looking back, she saw it was Haymitch and relaxed.

"Stay." he said.

She shook her head. "He was about to tell me – it was in his eyes!" she glanced down at the hold anchoring her down and put a hand over his own. "If I can just catch him!" she pleaded, trying to pry his fingers off of her. But Haymitch was stronger and he stood firm.

Desperate, Katniss began to fight more but met no freedom. A burning sensation swelled over her and she looked at Haymitch with a mixture of disbelief and anger. Yet he didn't have to say anything though to get the message through. _Stay._


End file.
